#more plausible anyways than that they grew their hair out that hard in just a few months. that they also had during rehearsals. shrug

[unproduciblesmackdown]

"Ed Iskandar talked with God. Then it was Lucifer’s turn. Now he was addressing Adam and Eve.

[...]

Right now, Iskandar was rehearsing the plays from Act I, including Madeleine George’s 10-minute piece about the Fall of Man, which she gives the elaborate title,  “A Worm Walks Into A Garden or The Fall of Man, an experiment in motive and comedy.”  In it, Lucifer tells dumb jokes to Adam and Eve, as a way of seducing them. Adam finds them funny. Eve doesn’t.

“You’re missing a crucial part of your anatomy,” Lucifer says to Eve. “The funnybone.”

Lucifer is being played by Asia Kate Dillon.

[...]

Dillon was writhing and entwining themself around Eve.  Suddenly Chase Brock, the show’s choreographer, got down on the floor and started to writhe on the floor along with Lucifer. Brock had researched the earthworm, and showed some pictures of earthworms to Dillon on his laptop to suggest other moves they could make."

"50 different plays by almost as many different playwrights is a massive undertaking in which each vignette varies in tone from the one before it.  The actors playing the characters do not change from play to play; this forces the performers to be as comfortable and convincing with farce as they are playing tragedy.  It is also fascinating to contemplate the mental and emotional gymnastics that each performer of The Bats (the resident acting company of The Flea) must have undergone to ensure that each character maintains the same internal psychological throughline when they appear in different plays by very different authors.

The first act deals with the Old Testament books and the Nativity.  In playwright Dale Orlandersmith’s Song of the Trimorph, the angels in Heaven mindlessly worship God (a deliciously petty, yet shrewdly authoritative Matthew Jeffers), who takes it as His due until Lucifer (Asia Kate Dillon) starts to question whether love without choice means anything.

Dillon’s beautifully delicate, white-haired devil is one of the show’s most complex figures. Watching them evolve from nuanced philosopher to diabolical heavy to world-weary cynic, depending on the vignette, is fascinating.  The narrative speeds its way through the Bible. Highlights include Madeleine George’s surprisingly feminist take on the Adam and Eve story; Hwang’s marvelously urgent Cain and Abel tale, which posits the first murder as a story of vengeance against a capricious God; and Mallery Avidon’s whimsically horrifying tale of Noah’s Flood, which also entails the deaths of everyone who didn’t make it aboard the Ark.

[...]

The show’s second section deals with the Life of Jesus, with Colin Waitt’s astonishingly variegated boy-next-door Jesus shifting from an idealistic dreamer as he travels with Mary and Joseph to a forceful, almost angry philosopher when he argues with Lucifer about the nature of love to a bratty dolt when he confronts Gabriel about his inevitable fate.  The fact that the playwrights clearly have a different idea of Jesus’s personality sets Wiatt a complex task:  He has to make his Christ the same in all situations; whether he’s being comic or tragic, Wiatt is convincing and moving in a performance of stunning versatility.

Indeed, his likable turns in Gabriel Jason Dean’s beautiful Christ Enters Jerusalem makes his ferocious agonies in Qui Nguyen’s Christ Before Herod and his subsequent crucifixion all the more heartrending. The third act deals with Christ’s resurrection and humanity’s fate at the Day of Judgment, and includes a series of plays set in modern times, as well as God’s final words to Lucifer, Jesus, and to us.  The show’s final Day of Judgment coda by Jose Rivera is an essay of forgiveness and unexpected love."

"Overall, the point of view of The Mysteries leans toward deism, the Enlightenment philosophy that presents God as a kind of clockmaker who created the universe, then left it alone to run according to its own laws. We see God squabbling with, then abandoning, Lucifer, setting in motion the events of the Bible, but even in Eden he is surprisingly enigmatic.

[...]

And, as one of the thieves killed with Jesus prophesies, it may all be for naught; he conjures up a future in which "the religion founded -- haha --upon your existence will be held up to justify the slaughter of millions over hundreds and thousands of years, for the brutal sins of domination and exploitation, the lynchings, the massacres and genocide, the relentless militarism. Everything you stood for will be erased."

[...]

In any case, the company is an almost constant joy. Among the more striking performances, [...] Asia Kate Dillon is a compelling presence as Lucifer."

"Four dozen playwrights take four dozen spiritual positions, which allows bubbles of radical reimagining to emerge only to sink again beneath the waves. For instance, our very first playwright, Dael Orlandersmith, paints Lucifer (Asia Kate Dillon) as a sweetheart Cordelia type refusing to curry favor with an insecure God (Matthew Jeffers). The fallen Light bringer keeps popping up throughout, and yet while Lucifer makes a number of solid points—many vigorously antichurch—they're still costumed as a blood-smeared reptile. Does evil exist? Or does it only exist when it can dress super cool?"

"It begins with a scene in heaven where we meet the lavish Angel Chorus that will be with us for the duration of the play, and witness Lucifer’s expulsion from heaven, something like in Milton’s Paradise Lost.

[...]

We also meet the rebellious Lucifer in that first scene in heaven, played with dazzling cynicism by Asia Kate Dillon, and at the same time the angel Gabriel, played by Alice Allemano, who, obedient to God, in contrast to Lucifer, struggles valiantly trying to make sense out of God’s commands and following through on them.  These two, Lucifer and Gabriel, played by tall, striking people, fine actors who resemble one another, hold the vast array together like bookends.

The scenes in the Garden of Eden are delightful, played, appropriately in the nude, by Jaspal Binning as Adam and Alesandra Nahodil as Eve.  Throughout the play, Biblical episodes are interpreted by the many playwrights in non-canonical ways and the first of these is brilliant:  the knowledge the first couple gain through their disobedient eating of the apple is — how to tell a good joke and how to enjoy one!"

"Act I – The Fall begins with Creation and Lucifer’s fall from grace with God. Lucifer is played by a steady, radiant Asia Kate Dillon who reappears frequently to mix things up with earthlings and the rival angel, Gabriel, played by Alice Allemano makes goodness alluring. God is played by an extremely patient and multi-dimensional Matthew Jeffers whose sense of humor humanizes the Lord."

"As starting points, Dael Orlandersmith’s “Song of the Trimorph (Lucifer’s Lament)” and Liz Duffy Adams’s “Falling for You” are somewhat too abstract, particularly “Falling for You,” which has Lucifer wonder, “How can there be love in the absence of being?”"

"Starting with the Fall, we are introduced to the Angel Gabriel and the fallen angel Lucifer, played by two equally lissome and brilliant young actors, Alice Allemano and Asia Kate Dillon. They compete for God’s affections by using a chorus of singing punk angels."

"Asia Dillon as Lucifer brought the precise mixture of demonic delight and fragility necessary for such an adaptation: watching their performance was like looking at a raw cut in the bowels of the earth, brimming with fire and unimaginable sadness."

(no relevant quotes, but throwing in a brief pdf of a grantee project report that focuses on Engagement)

#edited out inaccurate misgenderings in favor of ''not tiresome'' over ''the Historical letter accuracy of the sources'' #which are all right there to peruse as originally written too; so #lucifer isn't evil??? 0 stars. long play too long. ''not that enthused'' reviews are always Worse Quality for limiting the info & taking up #plenty of space with [what info Is given is dedicated to supposedly bolstering some specific ''didn't like that'' view of the author's] #just the kind of stuff that'd annoy me as i hate read movie reviews for things i didn't see in the newspaper at like age 12 metacritically #and that of course [just one person] as the norm whether for ''formal'' reviews or not; liking it or not....not the ideal format. #the emergent info or reflections on the same elements / effects of the material that comes from Various writeups by ppl? mwah. #and of course many include fun little Details / noting something that others don't. it comes with lore #the mysteries #asia kate dillon #lucifer the mysteries #lucifer mysteries #gospel48 #unfortunately 2/3rds of the quoted articles on chase brock's page for the mysteries aren't online. cmon.... #i feel like there might be one article i found the other night that didn't crop up in this search....might be conflating tweets or smthing #can just update it if so anyways....also again No Idea what the longer brown hair vs shorter ''white'' / blond hair is about lol #it kept being extended & that article i think was written in later months; maybe they cut it partway through #more plausible anyways than that they grew their hair out that hard in just a few months. that they also had during rehearsals. shrug #yeah just revisited my History and no other articles that i found last night (morning); none relevant re: akd lucifer mentions anyways lol #also that that was dialogue akd was delivering as lucifer during the crucifixion...was it given to someone else? is lucifer (probably) #taking the place of one of the fellow crucifees & delivering it; and the author focused on who they're standing in for?

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Every Drop of Grace

Endverse destiel

Rating: on the border between M and E (I’m over cautious, probably most people would say M)

About 3k

“Do you ever wish we could have something...normal?” Dean’s voice falls into the quiet night, a stone falling into a once-still pond.

Cas can’t hold back his snort. “Dean. You grew up hunting monsters. I’m a fallen angel. There was never going to be anything ‘normal’ about either of us.” Dean huffs in response, burying his face deeper into the hollow of Cas’s neck. “It also doesn’t help that our relationship–if that’s what you want to call it–began after the end of the world.”

“The world didn’t end,” Dean protests weakly. “It’s still here. It’s just…”

“Right,” Cas says, giving in to the urge to roll his eyes–it helps that Dean is behind him and can’t actually see his eyes. “The world is still here. We even have this tiny bit that’s almost safe.”

Dean doesn’t argue, though Cas can feel how much he wants to. Cas idly wonders if Dean ever argued a monster to death, but he doesn’t voice the thought. He doesn’t want Dean to leave. He smirks into the darkness, though. He can absolutely imagine a cocky, 13 year old version of Dean facing down a werewolf. “You’re doing it wrong!” shouts the smaller, higher-voiced Dean. “You need to lull me into complacency, then strike. No wonder you’ve been caught by a kid.

Cas chuckles softly at the made up–but completely plausible–memory. At Dean’s questioning hum, Cas skips his imaginings and brings the conversation back to where they started. “Considering the chaos all around us, I’d say what we have is amazing, Dean.” Having you at all is amazing, he does not say.

Dean smiles against Cas’s skin.

There is much Cas misses about being an angel–healing, flying, super-strength, not being so damned fragile–but on the opposite side, there are so many things that make the Fall worthwhile. He’d touched Dean when he was still an angel, and it had been nice enough. Better than nice even; there’d been something special about touching Dean from the first time he’d held the hunter’s broken soul in hell. But in this his human senses are far superior. The touch of Dean’s lips on the soft skin between Cas’s shoulder blades makes his heart race, his breathing quicken. Dean laughs, not more than a soft breath, and Cas’s stomach flips at the heat across his skin. He’s getting hard, just from a few small sensations.

Yes, the Fall was worthwhile. Even if they’re doomed, he wouldn’t trade this for all the Grace ever created.

Dean goes on, most likely unaware of Cas’s growing arousal. Cas focuses on Dean’s voice and on keeping his own breathing as even as possible, and soon he’s nearly as lost in Dean’s memories as Dean himself.

“I always tried to find fun stuff for Sammy, growing up.” Dean’s voice catches a little on his brother’s name, but he pushes through. “Most of the things I did pissed Dad off, but I didn’t let him stop me. The kid had to have something good in his horror of a childhood. Little things: a bag of marshmallows to roast over a campfire, a Monopoly game we could play in motel rooms, a baseball cap I knew he wanted. I found a pair of roller skates in his size once; I think he was about eleven. Man, that was a mess. Dumb kid took off like he knew just what he was doing and two yards later fell flat on his face. Dad put four stitches over his left eye and lectured him the whole time about what if that rock hit your eye instead of your forehead, blah blah blah. Sammy took it like a champ, didn’t flinch once, and as soon as Dad was gone Sammy put the skates right back on and took off again. And that time he didn’t fall. Well, he did, but not right away, and not so he needed stitches.”

Cas can tell Dean is working up to something, even if it all just seems like rambling. Dean is a roadmap, and sometimes Cas can follow. “A few months before I turned 16 I stole Dad’s car for a couple hours and took Sammy to a drive-in. You ever…?” Dean answers his own question before Cas has the chance to even shake his head. “Nah, you weren’t much of a movie-goer back in your halo days. At a drive-in you sit in your car to watch a movie–outside, at night. You park by a little speaker that pipes the sound right to you, and the screen is gigantic, big as...well, I don’t even know, it’s been too long, but trust me, it’s big. You look out the front of the car and all you see is the movie. You’ve got the sound filling up the car and the movie filling up your eyes and it’s like you and whoever you’re sitting with are in your own little world, whatever make-believe world the actors and all the rest made for you to live in. For a few hours, anyway.”

Dean’s voice is rough, almost raw. “That’s what we have, Cas. A few hours in a bubble full of make-believe, until the bubble pops and it’s the end of the world again.”

Cas wants to scream, to deny every word, to tell Dean it isn’t make-believe, it isn’t, and he wants to spend every minute from now until they fall to dust proving it, but instead he hears his traitorous mouth whisper, “I know.”

“It’s okay,” Dean says, and Cas isn’t sure which of them Dean is trying to comfort. “It’s okay. The pretending, the bubble–it’s enough.”

It isn’t. Cas wants it all, wants every bit of Dean. His smiles and his glares, his laughs and his curses, his happy chatter and his incoherent tears. He wants to be fucked into the mattress and then hold Dean in his arms until the sun comes up, to have Dean stay all night instead of slinking away in the darkness.

It isn’t enough. The coffee’s been gone for awhile, but he wants to make Dean tea in the mornings, good strong tea to bring a little of the sparkle back to his green eyes. He wants to go with him on foraging runs, venturing out of their little corner of the world to find supplies to last them just a little bit longer. He wants to have Dean’s back, to protect him, to keep him safe. He doesn’t have his mojo anymore, but he still has his blade, and he’s had millenia of practice to hone his skills.

Cas doesn’t want only darkness, grasping and clutching at each other when the rest of the world sleeps. He wants to give Dean every kind of pleasure, and maybe a little bit of peace. As a fallen angel, Cas doesn’t think he gets to go to heaven, but he doesn’t mind. He has here, he has now.

So this little bubble of half-truths and fairy tales…

It’s not enough.

Cas’s eyes begin to sting. “Fuck.” The word is mostly air, barely a sound at all, but of course Dean hears. Because Dean can see through Cas’s pretences too. That’s how these things work.

“Cas?”

“It’s nothing,” Cas says, but Dean sees through that too, maneuvering them both so they’re face to face on the narrow bed. Cas closes his eyes, willing the tears to stop before they can properly begin. He hates to cry, hates to have his feelings fly so far out of his control that they stream down his face in the form of wet, salty tears.

“It’s nothing,” he says again, when he trusts that his voice won’t give him away. Then, grasping at the first thought that passes through his head, he says, “I just don’t like when the bubble pops.”

The lines around Dean’s eyes soften. He presses a kiss to Cas’s forehead and says, “We’ve still got a few hours. I’m not going anywhere.” His yet is unspoken but Cas hears it anyway.

Dean’s got one hand holding the side of Cas’s face, fingers threaded into his hair, the other resting lightly on his hip. Their legs are tangled together, and when Dean moves in to kiss Cas again their hips move together and Cas can’t take it anymore. There is so much skin, it feels like skin for miles, but also like he can feel every individual cell, every molecule of Dean’s breath, every miniscule drop of sweat…

“Dean,” Cas groans, because it’s too much, his brain is going to overload. It doesn’t matter that they had sex not long ago–Cas needs more, needs to be closer. “Dean.” It’s almost a prayer. “Please.”

And Dean is there, even before he calls, pushing him onto his back. Dean kisses Cas, hungry, and Cas is happy–eager–to be devoured. He’s got his arms wrapped around Dean, clawing at his back, trying to pull them closer together. There’s a part of his brain screaming that Dean thinks this is all pretend, so maybe if Cas can get them close enough together, if he can somehow press the truth into Dean’s skin, then maybe Dean will understand.

But then Dean thrusts his cock (hard, so hard, and all for him) against Cas’s, and he stops thinking and just feels.

Cas throws his head back and Dean nips at his throat; Cas hisses and claws at Dean’s back again. There’s a growl coming from deep in Dean’s chest, but Cas can feel the smile against his skin. They both like the small shocks of pain–reminders of life.

Holding himself up on one forearm, Dean reaches between them, wrapping his strong, calloused fingers around both their cocks. A moan escapes Cas’s lips, and Dean chuckles softly. “Do you remember the first time we did this?” He’s looking deep into Cas’s eyes, and not for the first time Cas suspects he sees a bit of faerie in the emerald depths; enchanting, beautiful, tricksome, and dangerous. He knows there’s nothing to the thought; he knit Dean back together molecule by molecule, saw every strand of his DNA.

Dean twists his hand in a particularly skillful way and Cas is pulled back to the present. Their first time. Yes, Cas remembers. How could he forget?

“Summer sun,” Cas manages, in between gasping breaths. “Your freckles…”

“My freckles?” Dean laughs. “That’s what you remember?”

“I might be only human now, Dean Winchester, but I remember–” He gasps as Dean’s palm brushes against a particularly sensitive spot– “I remember every second of that afternoon with perfect–” Another shuddering gasp– “Perfect clarity.”

Dean’s hand stutters to a stop, and when Cas sees the look in Dean’s eyes something in his stomach twists. Don’t be too real don’t be too real shouts a voice inside his head, clearly battling with the part of him that wants Dean to know everything.

I’m a mess, he thinks.

To Dean he says in a low, broken voice, “I was leaning against the trunk of a tree, looking up at the sun shining through the leaves. It occurred to me that I’d never spent any time looking at trees, or leaves, or much of anything at all while I was an angel. I did what I was told. Didn’t even take time to look around and enjoy the view.”

Dean’s hand starts to move again. For a moment Cas’s eyelids flutter closed, his eyes rolling upwards in pure pleasure, but then he continues, concentrating on speaking slowly and carefully and without breaking. He almost succeeds.

“I hadn’t been human long. A month? Five weeks? Not long enough to get used to human senses. So when you walked up and the sun shone down on your face, your freckles standing out against your pale skin… And then you put your hand–” The memory of Dean’s hand reaching out is too much and he has to stop to breathe, to gain control, because he doesn’t want to come yet. The story isn’t over. “You put your hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Hey Cas.’”

That had been it. Just a touch, some freckles, and his name on Dean’s lips.

“There was something in your eyes,” Dean says, taking over the narrative. “I hadn’t meant to kiss you. But you looked...kissable. Blue eyes wide and…” He gives his head a quick shake. “I don’t know what it was. But as soon as our lips touched I knew it was the right thing to do. Knew I shouldn’t have waited so long to do it.” At this Cas raises his head up just enough to slot their lips together. It’s an electric current, sharp and warm, just like it always is.

It’s home.

“And then you pushed me up against my cabin wall.”

They’re both breathing heavy now, each of them close to their release but trying to hold on.

“It was the closest wall I could find,” Dean says, a little defensive, a little embarrassed. “And it was a little more hidden than the tree we started out against.”

If Cas had the breath to spare he’d laugh. He lets out a puff of air instead, and Dean’s eyes light up in response. “Yeah,” Cas says, teasing. “Sun shining down on us, completely visible from three sides, only blocked by the cabin. Couldn’t be bothered to–”

Dean stops him with a kiss. Cas doesn’t mind. Cas’s mind is full of lips and skin and hands and sparks and pleasure that is building and building and threatening to heave him overboard–

Cas is on the edge, barely hanging on, when Dean stops.

The stillness is both total and false. Neither of them moves, almost as if they are frozen in time, and there is no breath of wind coming through the open window, no branches scratching at the roof. But there are two hearts pounding, two men gasping for breath, and the whispers of a thousand words not being said.

Cas refuses to be the first one to speak. He knows if he opens his mouth, he’ll never stop.

It feels like an eternity has passed–though it’s probably only been ten or fifteen seconds, Cas’s sense of time has been skewed since his Fall–when Dean breaks the silence.

“What do you want, Cas?”

“Everything.”

Cas tells the truth, the real truth, before he can think, and for a moment he wishes he could somehow call the word back, erase it from history, go back to their bubble of make-believe. Dean would probably let him brush it off. He could call it sex induced lunacy. It’s probably even true.

But no. No. He’s fucking tired of pretend, of half-truths, of bedtime stories. This isn’t enough. He means it, he wants everything.

Dean is looking into his eyes, searching for something. Cas can’t read his expression, he’s guarding his thoughts too closely.

It hurts, having Dean hide from him. They’re naked and in each other’s arms, and Dean’s…

Well, really they’re both hiding. They’ve been hiding from the beginning.

Shit.

There’s a burning behind Cas’s eyes again, but this time he can’t blink the tears away. When the first tear rolls down Cas’s face Dean pulls back, a fraction of an inch, in surprise. His thumb wipes away the tear.

“Cas?”

“It’s not enough,” Cas says. “I can’t do this anymore, Dean. I meant what I said, I want everything. All of it. I want to spend the night with you and wake up with you in the morning. I want to kiss you in the daytime, with the sun on your freckles. Are you ashamed of me? The camp screwup, the broken angel? Because people talk, Dean. Everyone knows you come here, and they know what we do, and they don’t care. The world is falling apart. There are bigger things to worry about. There are bigger things for us, too, but right now all that matters is I can’t hide anymore. I love you, Dean. I think...no. I know I always have. And I don’t want to waste another second hiding in the dark.”

And Dean just looks at him. Once upon a time Cas put Dean together, molecule by molecule. Saw every bit of him. That’s how Cas feels now. Examined. Seen.

Known.

It should be horrifying, but it’s Dean, so Cas just looks back, waiting. He doesn’t even wipe away the tears that keep falling despite his best efforts to blink the damned things back.

The silence goes on so long Cas is sure Dean is going to get up and walk away. It’s okay, he tells himself. I want more, I want everything, but to love...that will never end. It will hurt, but I’ll still love him. No matter–

And then Dean is kissing him. It’s not heated, or frantic; it’s a soft, gentle kiss and makes Cas feel wrapped in love. They both smile, their foreheads pressed together. “Wish you’d said something sooner, Cas.”

“Didn’t want to push you away.”

Dean pulls back a little. “That’s...well, yeah, that’s…”

Smile widening, Cas says, “We’ll work it out.”

In what Cas supposes is an answer, Dean kisses him. A bit more playful this time, he even bites at Cas’s lower lip. Cas can’t hold back his moan. The feel of teeth rasping against his skin…it’s almost too much.

And then Dean’s hand starts moving again, tugging and twisting at their dicks. Cas is almost startled, he’d been so caught up in his confession of– but now isn’t the time, he’s groaning into Dean’s mouth and he thinks there might be words but his brain isn’t quite connected to the rest of his body at the moment. All he knows is good and Dean and so much love and skin and when Dean murmurs Cas’s name it’s too much for him and he spills his seed between them. Dean chases after, a punched out sound falling from his lips.

They lie together, still, their come sticky and drying between them. Somewhere far off in the camp a door clatters shut.

“I wish–” Dean starts.

“I know,” Cas interrupts. But it’s not the time to dwell on what might have been.

Dean shifts them into a more comfortable position. “Okay.”

“We should–”

“No.” This time it’s Dean interrupting. “Not yet. We can clean up in a few minutes. Right now I just want to hold you.”

Tucking his face against Dean’s chest, Cas murmurs, “I can’t say no to that.”

Dean somehow pulls Cas closer, and Cas’s skin sings. Worth every feather, he thinks. Every drop of Grace.

**

For @bend-me-shape-me ‘s Dean/Cas summer prompts!

Week 2 (drive-in cinema) and week 3 (I can still recall our last summer)

I hit week 3 kinda sideways…but it works!

#lirael writes #deancassummerprompts21 #endverse destiel #love confessions #angst with a happy ending #this makes me happy

[theturtleducks]

Soldier Pills - a kakasaku oneshot

“I’m so sorry for crashing in here. Totally didn’t mean to by the way but you’re the only one still in the village right now, that I know of and can really trust regardless. But um, could you - could you pretend to date me?”

after running from suna because kankurō declared intent to court her, sakura ran back to konoha to ask the one man that wouldn’t question her intentions, or at least she thought he wouldn’t

or, the time that sakura asked kakashi to fake date her so she could escape the clutches of a political union and found herself in another political union

Read on AO3 here :) Part II here Part III here Final part here

“I’m so sorry for crashing in here. Totally didn’t mean to by the way but you’re the only one still in the village right now, that I know of and can really trust regardless. But um, could you - could you pretend to date me?”

If it were anything to wake up Hatake Kakashi like a cold bucket of water despite the obvious lack of said bucket of cold water, it would be the frantic, pink haired woman who bulldozed into his apartment at kami knows in the morning. He was almost positive the birds weren’t even awake at this hour so why should his favorite teammate be?

“Hrrghh,” the half-asleep former jōnin groaned, rolling over on his nest that Sakura could barely discern as a proper bed. “Mah, Sakura… why?”

“I’m sorry, Kakashi, but it’s urgent.” She hissed, arms crossed over her chest as she leered down at him, still breathing heavily from her break in.

“What-“ He glanced at the ticking clock on the shelf that lined the wall underneath the window that Sakura was currently perched in. “- are you doing here at – does that say three? Sakura, why are you here at three in the morning?”

If the situation weren’t so dire, maybe Sakura would’ve laughed but seeing as it wasn’t and she really needed him to agree, she stayed silent.

“Please, Kakashi,” she whimpered, mentally sulking for stooping so low but if it was what made him tip in her favor, then so be it.

“Whose ass is out to get yours that you needed a fake boyfriend anyway?” He grumbled, pulling his shuriken blanket higher on his face.

She silently slipped further into the room and now leaned against the desk that was opposite his bed. If Kakashi were even looking at her, he would have noticed her crestfallen face. “It’s, um, Sabaku no Kankurō.” She mumbled, chin almost completely buried in her jōnin vest.

Two dark gray eyes opened abruptly and slide over to the moonlit kunoichi standing in the room. Her ethereally vibrant eyes stared back.

“Then what seems to be the problem here?” He said, ineffectively realizing that the light sleep he could’ve gotten without the interference of an obstinate woman was soon gone and that it was better to listen to her whims.

Clearly, in her rush over to his place, she had thought out a plausible plan for the two to enact. Sakura quickly waved her hands as if the act would pacify the situation. (It didn’t but Kakashi liked to see her try anyway.) “You don’t even have to do anything, Kakashi. It can all just be in name and title. And honestly a month at max. I don’t think Gaara’s going to even stay in the village that long anyway and they’ll be out of our hair soon enough. I just need enough time to thwart his advances.” She took a shaky breath, looking back down at the man who was now partially leaning against the wall and his blanket pooling around his waist. Noticeably, the man still slept with his masked, sleeveless, turtleneck on.

Sakura mumbled something else under her breath. Kakashi stared harder.

“I’m sorry, in my old age, I must’ve misheard that. Did you just say that you told him ‘we’ve been dating for six months?’” He sputtered, a great deal more eloquently than the rapid washed out blush that spread on Sakura’s nose and cheeks.

“I’m sorry, okay? I panicked when he asked me if I’d been seeing anyone – to be honest, I thought it was another way to secure another tie to Suna, you know, like Shikamaru and Temari? And I couldn’t have used Naruto because of Hinata, and they’ve already been together for what? A few years now, eh?” Sakura now looked like she wanted to be far from anyone she knew and Kakashi sat there glowering. “And couldn’t have picked Yamato-taichō because to be frank, he still scares me a little bit. And I know you must be thinking, ‘oh, why not Sai?’ And that’s because surprisingly, he’s gotten together with Ino, which I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention to anything happening in your village.”

“Eh? What about Sasuke? He’s not even in the village, wouldn’t that be easier?” Kakashi questioned thoughtfully, as if this suggestion was by far the best one for her to choose.

She shook her head sullenly, pink hair fluttering around her face. “Even if I did, that would make him expect things… things I’m not ready to give to him until he…” She trailed off, readjusting the hair that fell into her eyes.

The silence between the two grew. Kakashi took this a call to get ready for the morning, so he slid out of bed and went to the bathroom, leaving the pink haired kunoichi to stew in her thoughts for the time being.

He popped out of the bathroom, toothbrush in mouth to glance at her. (If Sakura had been paying any attention, she could’ve gotten a good look at the sixth Hokage’s bare face, but she was just a smidge out of it at the moment.) “Okay, so let’s say that I do follow through on your plan?” He hoped to at least alleviate the awkward air with a proposition that should compel her to respond. “What did you suspect we do to solidify your ‘act’?”

“Um,” she all but hummed. “Truthfully, I only said it in name. Kakashi, you don’t have to do anything. We already talk pretty frequently as it is.”

“Ah, I do suppose that is true,” he murmured as he finally left the bathroom and headed into the outer living area. “Yo, Sakura, tea?”

The pink haired woman grunted a response and followed after the silver haired man. She took a seat at his dilapidated oak table in the center of the kitchen, pulling her knees up to her chest.

A steaming mug of her favorite blend of green tea was gently placed in front of her. She looked up to see the smiling eye creases of Kakashi as he leaned over her to place the mug down. He ruffled her hair before standing fully again and back to fixing his own mug of tea.

“Do I take it that you’ve accepted?” She murmured after taking a sip of the scalding tea.

“Mah, Sakura at least let me think about it for a minute, why don’t you?” He chuckled, sipping his own tea through the mask. (How his didn’t waterboard himself on the daily, was something that Sakura never could comprehend.)

“Hmrph.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” he threw his hands in the air and relented. “You drive a hard bargain. What do I get out of this, anyway? A full week vacation from kage-dom? Or, ooh, free food for a month?”

“Ugh,” she groaned, throwing her head back in exasperation. “Can I figure out something later in the day? I am still tired. I did book it from Sunagakure to here this evening.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Did you just say that you ran from Suna to here this evening?”

“Yes? Was that not implied?” She glared at the shocked Hokage seated to her right. “I was on a medical friendship mission there for the past two weeks. You even signed my mission papers.”

“Yeah, but Sakura, that’s a two-day run at barely above normal speed.”

“Okay, and?”

“I wouldn’t be shocked if you passed out within the next moment from over exhaustion.” True to his estimations, she knocked out right there on his kitchen table. And even fell into her mug, splashing hot green tea all over her face and the surface of the table.

TBC

#kakasaku #i saw the prompt for kakasaku month as was like i got something for that #kakasaku oneshot #kakasaku fanfiction #uhmmm this is just a taste of what ive written #itll be posted eventually on ffnet and ao3 #i really just banged this out within the past like 2 hours #hatake kakashi #haruno sakura #fake dating au #kakasaku month 2021

[tokoyamisstuff]

Betrothed Ch. 9 - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Epilogue: Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Leaving the Zoldyck estate to search for your husband, what will await you once you find him?

Warnings: Angst, Violence.

Words: ~2500

Story Masterlist

A/N: The plot is connected to the “Phantom Rogue” movie. In case you haven’t watched it yet (no spoilers don’t worry): The antagonist of the movie uses Nen to create puppets taking after real persons, which even possess their personaliy and memories.

All I ever wanted All I ever needed Is here in my arms Words are very Unnecessary They can only do harm

Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence

People tend to say you should be careful what you wish for. Apparently they were right.

At least it worked...somehow.

The last thing you knew was that you had sneaked into Alluka’s cell, wanting to free her just as much as you wanted to find Illumi. Of course her parents weren’t really fond of the idea, so you waited for an opportune moment and asked for Nanika to appear before the family could realize and act against it.

Your wish was pure and without any ill intend - so there would be no consequences.

“Please: Bring me to Illumi. I need to save him!”

So she did as she was told.

You found yourself having been teleported to an unknown place, at bright day even though it was night at the Zoldyck estate. That means you’d be at least on the other side of the world, gladly far enough away for them to quickly try and retrieve Alluka.

All you could make up in between miles of nature was an old building, almost like a chapel.

And in front of it stood Illumi.

“These eyes are strange” he thought out aloud, taking in his environment. “Everything looks so bright.”

“Illu-nii-!” You put a finger in front of Alluka’s lips, signalizing her to stay quiet. Gladly you had appeared in somewhat of an hiding, so no one had noticed you up until now.

Something was off. That thing was surely not Illumi - even if it painfully appeared so.

“Gon!” a blonde girl shoutet in visible distress, “Hang in there! Gon!”

And then it dawned to you: A Nen ability.

Cloning? But why and how? It should be impossible to make such a perfect image of another person, which even seems to think and act on it’s own.

“Give gon his eyes back!” Killua demanded, but got shut down by the clone through a proper kick in his guts. “I can’t do that, Kill.”

You were too late to stop the poor Killua from running away, instead of chasing him deciding to follow the spitting image of your husband - but he had detected you earlier than you anticipated.

“Weird...” he spoke with the voice you had missed so much, staring at you with an empty glare. “You don’t look different.”

A surprised “Huh?” was all you managed to get out at his weird assumption, defendingly standing in front of Alluka.

“Those eyes make everything shine so bright. But you look just as always” the clone statet, almost as if amazed by your sheer appearance.

“You’ve always shined to me, Y/N.”

And like that, he was gone.

There wasn’t much time to think about it, since the screams of that unfamiliar girl got you down to earth again.

“Please, Gon!” she encouraged him as he tried to leave after she wrapped a bandage around his empty eyeholes. “Don’t-”

But he was already gone, chasing Killua to god knows where.

“What the hell...” you mumbled, still holding Alluka firmly in your arms.

Now the girl, which appeared like a puppet as well given a second look, turned to both of you. “Just...who are you? And where did you came from?”

“Long story.” Your answer was short, not wanting to tell anyone about Alluka’s powers. “But I’m a friend of those children. And...I need to find the man from earlier.”

“That was just one of Omokage’s puppets” she explained, pointing towards the direction Gon and Killua ran off to. “I can explain anything on the way. But we need to find them!”

It was already night when you found those two, because even with your superhuman speed you still had a child to take care off.

Seemingly, the two had resolved whatever internal trouble they were having, and much to your surprise Leorio and Kurapika had joined them as well.

“You guys...”

“Y/N?!” All of them went into a defensive position, ready to fight you in case you were a puppet as well. You weren’t mad, though. It was the only plausible reason for them to have magically appeared in here.

“Killu-nii!” Alluka cheered, approaching her brother as fast as her small legs could carry her. You wanted to prevent a reunion like that, but well...

Of course the boy broke out in tears as he remembered his sister he was forced to forget about all those years, the weight of his guilt crushing down on him once again. “I’m so sorry, Alluka...I think I was still under Illu-nii’s influence.”

Your lip began to tremble at his words, having to bite it so they wouldn’t notice that you were about to cry.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?” Damn. Of course they noticed the shift in your aura.

“Come to think of it...” Gon said, unusual sharp intellect considering his usual, blunt nature. “How come you accompany Killua’s sister? Doesn’t that mean you would’ve broken in Kurokoo mountain and fight all the Zoldycks for it?”

“I...uh-”

“Wait a second!” Good for Killua that he regains his cool so fast after having been emotional, but you wish it weren’t like that. “Isn’t that my great-grandmother’s ring? Did you stole it?!”

“Wha- no! Of course not!”

That wasn’t his greatest concern: Did you know about Alluka’s powers, and wanted to have them for yourself? Was that the reason? But how could you ever just invade the Zoldyck property and take what’s theirs without dying at their hands?

None of it made sense, no matter how much he racket his brain around the matter.

“Illu-nii gave it to Y/N for their wedding! Isn’t that cute?”

Everyone’s breath hitched at Alluka’s innocent words, and you could feel even those whose eyes were stolen widen in shock.

Before you could even defend yourself, Killua had tackled you down before sharpening his fingernails and pressing them against your neck, drawing blood.

“Why...?” Kurapika spoke the word that went through everyone’s minds, followed by Killua’s disappointed whisper “Traitor....”

“Because I love Illumi. That’s all.”

The boy then grabbed your shirt, shaking you as if to wake you up from a deep trance. “Love? LOVE?!? You know my brother, damn it!”

“Yeah!” Leorio joined the scolding. “You know very well what he forced Killua to do all those years, and that he tried to kill Gon!”

“I know very well what he’s capable of.” Against all resistance by your friends, you still remained calm and cheerful. “But he’s my husband, and I’ll fight for him until my dying breath.”

You’ve never seen Killua so furious and hurt in your life, and you could understand him:

The man responsible for all of his pain - and someone he considered a friend to fall in love with and defend him.

“Don’t give me that bullshit...” he growled as he let go off of you, tears of anger collecting in the rim of his eyes. “He obviously turned Y/N into a needleman!”

The only one to remain silent was Gon, knowing that he shouldn’t intervene until Killua was done having his rage.

Since the truth was simple, yet hard to accept for someone who had suffered under Illumi’s influence for that long.

“Don’t bully Y/N!” Alluka suddenly  blurted out, softly punching her brother’s back.

Killua then refrained from interrogating you any further, turning around to hug his sister once again. You knew the anger he let out was not just against you or your husband, but also out of wdisappointment in himself.

“I’m so sorry, Alluka...I should’ve saved you. Instead, I tried to leave my past behind and also left you alone!”

Alluka was a smart girl, at least emotionally - her mind worked different than the other Zoldycks. She gently put her hand on her brother’s hair, consoling him even though she never really understood how severe the situation at hand was:

“It’s okay! I was’t alone!” she cheered, smiling all innocent from one ear to another. “Big brother Illumi played with me all the time, together with Y/N! We had such fun!”

You smiled gently at the naive girl, knowing everyone would believe her to speak the truth. Picking her up and on your shoulders as she always wanted you to do, you waited for everyone to just process her statement.

“Alluka has spent almost every day at home with us” you proudly declared, as if you were actually her parent. “He’s a bit reserved, of course, but he loves her very much!”

“...that’s so fucked up” Leorio declared as he thought back to the creepy Gittarackur.

Killua was at loss for words, only managing to get out a consensual nod at Leorio.

“Hey!” you snickered mischievously, rumpling up his hair. “I’m your sister in law now. A little more respect!”

“Anyway” Kurapika interrupted, “Where’s Pretz?”

Seems like changing the topic was easier for the group than to keep thinking about that almost impossible constellation.

“She’s a puppet” Gon revealed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, just for you to confirm his thesis.

“And you let Illumi steal your eyes just to follow the nen connected to them?” Giving him a head-butt, you added. “Still the idiot.”

That wasn’t fully true: Those kids sure grew since the last time you’ve met them at the Hunter Exam.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, feeling like a stone was falling off your chest just by being with them.

“I’m glad to meet you again. I’ve missed you so much, guys!”

Leorio had volunteered to take care of Alluka, so she wouldn’t get dragged into the fight, while the others of you headed for Okogame’s hideout.

It was a giant church, so old that it was on the verge of breaking down. 

Fitting place for a showdown, you thought.

“You don’t understand the beauty of my art!” was Okogame’s answer as Kurapika demanded for him to set his dead friend free.

“See?” he yelled dramatically as he revealed his puppets. “Pairo’s beauty together with Kurapika’s passionate eyes.”

To be honest, that wouldn’t revoke a reaction inside of you as your mind was always wandering off.

But then, he revealed his other creation.

“And Illumi’s madness, together with Gon’s pure eyes.”

“...”

“Still the damsel in distress, I see.” God, even his voice was just like him. “I thought I’ve teached you better than that, Y/N.”

“Here he comes” Gon stated the obviously, but you had something to tell Killua.

"This isn’t completely him” you whispered as the puppet slowly approached you. “I can sense it: He isn’t nearly as strong as the real deal. And do you know what? He’s influenced by our memories of Illumi. They shape this puppet. That’s why he’s so scary to you, do you understand? That’s just how you depicture your brother.”

Killua knew what you really wanted to say: As you were now, you could easily end this - but Killua needed to defeat his fears himself.

The puppet came to a halt in front of his younger brother.

“Emotions are obsolete.” Ironically, it seemed that the puppet couldn’t avert his gaze from you, only making you crave your husband more. “Don’t value any of those pathetic commitments.”

“T-That’s wrong.” You were so proud of Killua, because even though he was almost frozen in place out of fear he was able to talk back to his brother. “I made friends, and it’s a great feeling.”

“You’re being silly, Kill” he declared as he pointed at you. “Do you see Y/N over there? I tried it myself. And guess what: They betrayed me. Ran away from me, scared. And now I’m all alone again.

Ouch. Even the puppet was hurt by your actions back then.

“But killing is something we can always do. It gives us power, makes us feel alive. Fear is the only reliable way of controling someone. We don’t need friends. We can manipulate people. Otherwise they will only hurt and betray you. So if they disobey: Kill them.”

“S-Shut up!” both you and Killua shoutet in unison.

“Kill me, then” he whispered into Killua’s ear, “Come on. Prove that I’m wrong.”

So that’s the monster Killua saw in Illumi all those years...

“Lumi...” you couldn’t help but sob, “I didn’t want to let you down...”

“Don’t interfere” the puppet spoke, throwing several needles at you at once. “I don’t have any business with you anymore. This is a family matter.”

“I like the outfit!” you laughed it off, avoiding the needles as if it was nothing. “Feels just like sparring back then!”

“You’ve always been too careless, Y/N. Because I had a soft spot for you. But I’m not going easy on you now - my order is to leave none of you alive.

A few needles pinned you to the wall, making you realize you weren’t fully concentrated.

You didn’t want to fight your husband, even though that’s not really him, so you were unknowingly holding back.

“We knew it would eventually end that way” the puppet spoke, the dark void in his eyes reminding you of the Illumi you got to know before your marriage. “Even though I’m almost sad about it.”

Your head fell in defeat, too hurt to see the love of your life suffering for so long. May as well let him hurt you a bit, to punish yourself and feel what he felt.

“I’m so sorry, Lumi.” Your answer and lack of struggle actually made him taken aback for a second, until the mission that Okogame’s nen imprinted on the puppet forced him to continue.

“Hey!” Killua yelled as he kicked another set of needles out of his hand, “We are your enemies! You said it yourself!”

Of course they had their own intentions: Getting back Kurapika’s eyes, save Pretz, overcome the trauma Illumi had put on Killua...

But you were thankful that your friends tried to avoid you having to end Illumi’s life, even if only in a metaphorical sense.

The real fight didn’t even take a whole minute, with Gon and Killua only taking a few hits until they pierced the puppet’s heart with unified strenght.

Immediately, you rushed to his side, caughting the stiff body before it hit the ground.

“Why do you stay with me, Y/N...?”

You grabbed his hand, feeling honest compassion for the artifical being as you cried out “Because you’re being loved. By me, and Alluka and even Killua! I’ll find the real you, and save you no matter what!”

“I see...” The puppet robotically touched your cheek, movements not really different from the real Illumi at the beginning from your relationship. “Maybe I was wrong about trust after all.”

A small smile played on his face as your lips hesistantly touched, while you simultaneously pressed a knife inside of him to end it all.

“Rest now” you said what Illumi had always told you when you were upset. Okogame’s curse couldn’t force his will onto the puppet now that he wasn’t able to get up ever again.

And Illumi collected the last bit of strenght as his body slowly dissolved into nen.

At least in the end he wasn’t alone - until death does you part.

“I guess dying through your hands doesn’t feel all that bad.”

_____

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Feedback is always appreciated!

#Illumi Zoldyck #Illumi x Reader #Illumi Zoldyck x Reader #HxH #Arranged Marriage AU #Self Insert #Fanfiction #Illumi Zoldyck x You #Illumi x You #Illumi/Reader #Illumi/You #Illumi Zoldyck/Reader #Illumi Zoldyck/You

[twistedsinews]

OC Profile

Tagged by @chyrstis

<3

Tagging: @rosewaterhag, @hunnybadgerv, @gatticus, @heywoodvirgin (for when you come back), @chyrstis, @ ... whoever wants to do it and hasn't yet!

V

General

Name: V. Literally. It's always been just V.

Alias(ses): Enough people assume that V is an alias, and it's difficult enough to track down in a database. However. She will use other aliases for one-off jobs when she needs the extra layer of security of not having someone track her down through street work, but none of them really get recycled.

Gender: Nomad. I jest, but I'm pretty sure she's somewhat off the binary even if she straddles the line.

Age: As of the events of C77, she'd just turned 29.

Birthdate: I don't actually have one for her. Possibly in January... I'm only saying that because I started playing Cyberpunk on my birthday but that's when she came into creation so why not.

Place of birth: The Badlands. I'm not sure where in the Badlands, but probably quite the distance from Night City.

Hometown: She grew up in a roving band of self-sufficient scavengers, so... everywhere. And nowhere.

Spoken languages: English. Bad English. She might've picked up a few scattered words of other languages, but she relies heavily on her translation software and that reliance has stunted her learning.

Sexual preference: Ladies and gentlemen, and Jackie Welles. She's not picky on the sex or gender front, but someone who can keep up with her, ideally.

Occupation: Street Ronin. Mercenary for hire.

Appearance

Eye color: Mid-light purple. Dark brown, prior to getting modded.

Hair color: Blue and red, although she'll change it from time to time. Black, prior to getting modded.

Height: 5'8"

Scars: She has a few. The healed slash on her face comes from her first real knife fight, and she keeps it as something of a memento. There are some newer scars on her hands. And let's not talk about that mess of scar tissue that is her heart, because ow.

Favorite

Color: I think she probably likes pink, red, blue, and teal about equally.

Hair color: Barring mods, probably dark.

Eye color: Sky blue.

Song: Favorite in the same way that pain makes you feel alive, I think, but post-Heist, she found a new appreciation for Never Fade Away.

Food: Marshmallows. City takeout, especially pizza.

Non-alcoholic drink: Soda, the sweeter the better.

Alcoholic drink: Nomad moonshine, but tequila can be fun. And then there's vodka.

Have they...

Passed university: Fuck, no.

Had sex: Fuck, yes.

Had sex in public: ...I mean. Not on the Main St. Sidewalk, but I'm... pretty sure there wasn't as much privacy in all those back alley trysts as you might want to believe. Also, do orgies and sex clubs count as public? ‘cause, uh...

Gotten pregnant: Nope. Cyborg birth control ftw!

Kissed a boy: Yes.

Kissed a girl: Yes.

Gotten tattoos: Several. All traditional, none of them are Light tattoos.

Gotten piercings: A few in her ears, the nosering, and the eyebrow thing.

Been in love: Yes. Not until she reached Night City, but then she kinda made up for it by falling in love a few times over the course of the game.

Stayed up for more than 24 hours: Pretty regularly, for business and for pleasure.

Are they...

A virgin: Ha. No.

A cuddler: Very much so. Even before the love part, she was always very tactile. (It confused the hell out of Jackie until he just accepted that being her best friend and go-to fling was about as intimate as some relationships he'd been in... prior to feelings coming to light, anyway.)

A kisser: Indeed.

Scared easily: In some ways, not so much others. On her own, she's pretty reckless and fearless. When she has people she cares about, she can fairly easily get scared of fucking up the relationship and also of outside harm coming to them if and when these things crop up on the horizon. However, it pretty much took coming face to face with death in a way she couldn't shrug off before she actually got traumatized to the point of being terrified.

Jealous easily: Under the right circumstances. She's less jealous of physical activity and closeness and more when it comes to feelings.

Trustworthy: She can lie and she can twist the truth, and she has no scruples against doing either. But when it boils down to it, if she's on your side she will have your back to the last cliff at the end of the world.

Dominant: She certainly can be. She can be hard-headed and stubborn, to add to it, and she has no second thoughts about stepping up and taking charge. Though if we're talking about in bed, she's drastically less so.

Submissive: To whom is the bigger question. If she likes someone, she tends to be a lot gentler and tries to be considerate. And again, if we're talking about in bed, well... yes. Pushy about it sometimes, maybe, but yes.

In love: Ha. Hahaha. Yes. With quite a few people.

Single: It's complicated (TM).

Random questions (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

Have they harmed themselves: In a manner of speaking. It's not a conscious/deliberate thing, the way most people think of self-harm, but she falls into plenty of behaviors that would qualify and definitely puts herself out there in harms way or restricts herself as a means of self-punishment.

Thought of suicide: Yes. Quite a bit, after the Heist.

Attempted suicide: Again, not in a conscious or deliberate way, but more of a sarcastic 'wouldn't it be a shame if these dangerous behavior patterns happened to have consequences' way.

Wanted to kill someone: Quite a bit! And has!

Have/had a job: Very many!

Have any fears: Losing the people she cares about, to negligence or outside influence. Not making any lasting impact. Dying, after viewing that BD, and double after reliving Johnny's memories, and triple actually doing it once or twice.

Family

Siblings: To her knowledge, she's an only child. It's plausible that her mother remarried after leaving the clan.

Parents: Her father is a Nomad. Her mother is City, though V never knew which city. She's not in contact with either. And so far, I haven't given them names.

Children: None and she's a little terrified of the idea. Not that she couldn't eventually change her mind - she never thought she'd be in love, either.

Significant other: Jackie. Misty. Arguably Panam and River. Saul and Placide she kinda wishes. Johnny she kinda wishes not, but they share a brain and that's pretty significant even if not in any traditional relationship sense.

Pets: One (1) sphinx cat she found and picked up that was hiding in the alleys of her MegaBuilding.

#chyrstis #nomad!v #cyberpunk 2077 #i'm pretty sure i've done this one with faith before... #so... have a v

[kessielrg]

[Dragon Age] Oreos

Summary: In which Varric teaches his kid the proper way to dunk an Oreo. Hawke is there to be an as-…sistant. [oneshot][female humorous Hawke][modern AU]

Rating: K+

Word Count: 1,971 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

“Now where did I put them?” Varric mumbled to himself as he looked through the pantry. He cursed to himself when he tried to reach a bit higher up. Curse the Maker for making him vertically challenged. Had to use a stool in his own home and still couldn’t reach the top shelf. Go figure.

“Got it!” the dwarf exclaimed as his hand got a firm hold of the plastic packaging. After a very careful extraction, Varric held the Oreo package close as he then moved the stool to its rightful corner. He placed the Oreos on a serving tray he had arranged on the kitchen counter. Humming some Kidz Bop song he heard earlier, he then went into the fridge to pull out the milk.

As he poured the milk into three glasses, Varric kept an ear out for the living room. The sounds of a young voice were easy to make out, but was she talking to someone else or just herself again? As he put the milk back in the fridge, Varric really wished that Hawke kept her medicine in the kitchen instead of the bathroom. The last time he checked, her prescription needed to be filled again, and Hawke had yet to do so. It worried him. It worried him a lot more than he was willing to admit.

Varric let out a sigh before taking the tray and heading into the living room. Varric had his own kid to tend to, and it wasn’t Hawke. Still didn’t stop him from letting out a sigh of relief in seeing both Hawke and Hana sitting at the living room coffee table. He wouldn’t have to force her out of bed today. Good. Not that the promise of deliciously nasty cookies was anything to ignore. Hawke was a sucker for sweets whether she was aware of it or not.

Hana seemed rather chipper though. Actively serving as the only genuine energy in the room, Varric’s daughter had her straw yellow hair pulled into two low pigtails today. She was gladly going on about some topic that Hawke couldn’t feign actual interest in. Was she going on about how pretty Selena Gomez was again, or that game that her birth giver introduced her to a few weeks back? Oh well, it didn’t matter now. Now that Varric had gotten everything ready, it was time for the main event.

“We have gathered here today for a very momentous occasion.” Varric announced, striding over to the girls and effectively earning their attention. “Today is the day that we teach 7 year old Hana Tethras how to properly dunk, and eat, Oreos.”

Hana put on a wide smile. Hawke even gave a rather generous round of applause. She even peppered it with a few “That’s our girl!” and “She’s getting so big!” cheers for extra effect. It only helped the younger girl beam with pride. Even Varric gave a light smirk of appreciation.

“Now teenybopper,” he said as he took a place across from the girls, placing the tray right in the middle of the coffee table. “How do you feel? You nervous? Already got a preemptive tummy ache from all the sugar your old man is going to let you consume?”

“Nope!” Hana told him with a firm shake of her head. She then slammed her hands down with determination before saying, “Bring it, Papa!”

“Rein it back kid,” Varric laughed, “Don’t want to get the milk all over the coffee table, do we?”

“Sorry.” Hana sheepishly apologized. She carefully took her milk glass from her father and placed it to her left. She even gave it a good, hard stare, as if she was pressuring it into not falling over later. Varric snorted before handing Hawke her glass as well, then went about divvying up the cookies.

“Ah, Oreos,” Hawke thinly mused as Varric gave her share. “The only cure for my depression.”

He tried to hold it back, Varric scoffed. “They are not. That’s what your medication is for.”

“Well, you don’t have to act so sure about it,” Hawke frowned. “Give me my delusions and plausible deniability, Varric. It’s all I got in this world.”

“You have me Hawke!” Hana quickly chirped. “And Papa too!”

Hawke gave Hana a rather tired look, not quite intended for the child to see. The woman absently placed a hand on Hana’s head. She then gently stroked the top of Hana’s head as if it were a calming mechanism. Maybe it was; something about little Hana did give off a rather comforting aura. But Hawke would be damned if she knew just what it was.

“I do.” Hawke carefully agreed- although the sentence came out more as a question. Seeing Hana’s bright smile only made Hawke a bit more dazed. Varric looked on with a rather concerned expression on his face. He gently coughed into his hand, leading the ladies’ attention back to him.

“Now, for your first proper lesson, I’ve decided to go the easy route. I’m not training my young’in with the normal Oreos- that would be an exercise and a half not to break them. No, we’re going to use double stuffed Oreos. The best kind.”

“Naw, what about the triple stuffed Oreos, Varric?” Hawke whined. “Why can’t we use them instead?”

“Too much stuff.” came the rather firm answer. “I am a man of correcting my previous mistakes, and I’m not taking that road again.”

Hawke gave a badly exaggerated groan before telling him, “Having a kid really ruined your sense of fun.”

“No,” the man asserted. “Having a kid gave me a greater sense of avoiding 3 AM puke fests because someone decided to eat too much cookie cream.”

“It was one time!” Hawke argued, despite the rather amused look she had- Hana was stifling a cute little laughter beside her. “Everyone was black-out drunk anyway, and it was the perfect prank.”

“I don’t think Sebastian would say the same.”

“Since when were you ever one for accurate reaccountments, hmm?”

“You know he’s a dunker, Hawke. It gives him a sense of purpose.”

“Was he? Always seemed more like a licker.”

“Anyway…!” Varric then loudly proclaimed. “We’re getting off topic.”

Hawke and Hana exchanged a look before erupting into a set of bemused giggles. Varric rolled his eyes. Surround yourself with girls, they said. It would be a joy, they said. At least one of them was directly related to him- he wasn’t sure why he kept the other around.

“Now that I have your attention again,” Varric told them, “Let us first begin by picking up the Oreo itself…”

. . .

In a way, this whole thing was just so Varric could easily say seven year olds had the fine motor movement to carefully manipulate something as delicate as Oreo cookies. Always write what you know, yeah? It was a bit hard to believe that his own spawn actually stuck her tongue out when she was concentrating. She definitely didn’t get that from his side of the family. If anything, it was something he could see Hawke doing…

“I finally got it!” Hana suddenly exclaimed. Varric and Hawke both looked at her at the same time. The girl was proudly showing her two Oreo halves. One side had just the cream, the other was completely clean.

“Great job, teenybopper!” Varric approved. “Hawke, lean over and muss her hair for me. I can’t reach.”

Hawke nodded, but didn’t mess up Hana’s hair. Instead, she gave her a small elbow nudge and said, “Great job, teeny. Now we can audition you for all those Oreo commercials. You’d be a shoo-in.”

Hana’s smile grew even wider at the approval. Oh, to be young and easily proud of your (usually useless) accomplishments.

“Remember to only use your teeth to scrape the cream off if your tongue can’t find a good pocket beforehand.” Varric reminded his kid. Hana gave him a firm nod before returning to the cookie. He gave her a smile as he returned to his own lot as well.

Hawke had also returned to her Oreo dunking. After two cookies, she no longer felt like licking the cream off before dunking, so she just let the Oreo soak for a few moments. It was almost a routine that she zoned out for. Dip the Oreo, wait a bit, then eat it. Nothing to think about. It was a legitimate surprise when half the Oreo fell into the milk as she tried to pull it out. She blinked a few times before looking up at Varric.

“Varrrric,” Hawke whined, “Cookies got lost in milk!”

“That’s because you tried to dunk too much of the Oreo in the milk.” he replied without so much looking at her. “Then you pinched it as you pulled it up, and all your mushy cookie got lost.”

“But I didn’t pinch it!” she went on. A small edge in her voice made Varric look up. For a moment, he wondered if she was legitimately upset about it. “I only had half of it in the milk- you saw it! Tell ‘im, Hana.”

“You’re so funny, Hawke!” Hana laughed. The poor girl obviously not seeing that Hawke wasn’t quite being dramatic on purpose this time. Not that Varric could blame her- he’d bottle that innocence up and repackage it back into Hawke herself if he could.

“A real barrel of monkeys.” Varric mused. He gave a small click of his tongue before asking, “Hawke, did you take your meds today?”

Hawke proceeded to look at him like he was crazy. The dwarf was unrelenting, though. He had full plans of staring her down until Hana interrupted all of their thoughts with a musing;

“What do they make Oreo filling with anyway?”

A silence followed after this. Mostly because Varric didn’t want to stop nonverbally bullying Hawke into confessing she wasn’t taking care of herself again. He had to relent, letting out a defeated sigh before telling Hana, “Dunno, teenybopper. We can look it up later if you want.”

Hana gave a thoughtful hum and a little nod of her head, her attention too focused on staring at the Oreos now. Varric shook his head at her, before trying turning his attention back to Hawke. But Hawke had left the coffee table. She had slunk her way onto the couch, and was now actively trying to find the TV remote. That meant in a few minutes, Hawke would find something on TV that interested Hana, and the Oreo eating portion of their day officially over.

And Varric would be the one cleaning up the mess, because of course he would.

Varric let out a sigh before starting to get up. He made a trip to the kitchen to get a note off the fridge, then went back into the living room and straight to Hawke.

“The pharmacy closes in six hours,” he told her as he handed the note over, “Call them, or I’ll sit on you.”

Hawke looked at him, not sure whether to be amused or angered.

“Having a kid really ruined your sense of privacy.” she said, almost in a grumble

“No,” he told her. “Having a kid gave me a greater sense of caring for others. I’m not asking you twice, Hawke. Call them.”

The corners of Hawke’s mouth twitched as if she wanted to tell him off. He never gave her the chance. Instead, he sat back over with Hana, and quite purposely started to make conversation with her. The girl was rather ignorant of the friction between the two friends. In a way, Varric was grateful for it. She’d know and understand it better when she was older. But for now ignorance was bliss.

He just prayed that every force used to beat Hawke down never reached his own kid.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #varric tethras #da varric #da2 varric #varric #da2 hawke #hawke #marion hawke #humorous hawke #depression #oreos #oneshot #dragon age fanfiction #original character #dragon age fan fiction

[proudgodot]

Gratitude

I was not initially planning to post about this, given that my unfortunate tendency to over-share has caused me quite a bit of grief in the past, but the truth is that I simply couldn’t resist this time. Typically when I am overcome by an uncontrollable desire to post it is because I am desperately in need of attention or validation, so much so that I can’t actually remember a time when I posted because I was genuinely eager to share something. It was always out of some perverse and misplaced sense of obligation, but it finally feels as if that burden is lifted. While I was writing this post, it was because I felt a genuine…. pride over something I had accomplished, something I genuinely wanted to share with the world. When I chose the name of this blog I didn’t earnestly expect that I would ever feel anything other than shame about myself… it seemed more an ideal than an actual plausible prediction. I’m just so relieved my wish came true.

Anyway, I suppose that is quite enough navel-gazing for the time being… I can only imagine my followers have probably had enough of that to last a long and fulfilling lifetime. I reckon it’s time to move on to the actual story.

As most of you well know, following the dramatic events of the Kristahlia drama, I suddenly found myself with the new responsibility of parenthood. There are certainly aspects of my new lifestyle that have been difficult to adjust to… principle of which is that I am supposed to serve as a sort of role model for these developing and damaged boys. I have never been particularly aspirational, in fact you would be hard-pressed to find someone as underperforming as me. Although I was prone to overcompensating for such things, always desperately trying to prove that I was capable of as much as the bare minimum, looking back I see that I grew too comfortable with those low expectations. When it registered that as a caretaker I would suddenly have to perform a sort of excellence, not for the sake of my fragile ego but for the betterment of these children… I was immediately overcome by a painful inadequacy. However, as our first week together progressed, I came to realize that in certain regards all of us were personally inadequate, and it was for that very reason we had taken on this responsibility together. Although I certainly had my short-comings, that wasn’t something unique to me, and over time we all began to coordinate better and help manage each other’s weaknesses. I was somewhat surprised to learn this was not only true of the adults, but the children as well. The dynamic we developed as a family was rather symbiotic… I found that regardless of age we all had something to offer each other.

Regardless, I promised myself that I would do whatever it took to keep my found family as distant as possible from my most severe personal issues. My past was something I felt I had to resolve independently, no matter how tempting it was to once again depend on the people in my life to solve my problems in my stead. That is why when I made the decision to start looking into Anton’s whereabouts, I never spoke a word about it to my housemates.

Facebook made finding his account incredibly easy, distressingly so in fact. I became acutely aware of the possibility that he might have been recommended my account numerous times over the years and had consciously chosen not to send me a friend request, which although completely understandable still hurt immensely to imagine. Perhaps my hopelessly romantic dream to reconnect with the man was unrequited, and would be rejected with extreme prejudice if vocalized. Eventually, however, I managed to muster up the courage to actually inspect his profile. I discovered that after our quarrel six years ago and his subsequent transferral Anton had moved back to his hometown in Ann Arbor to complete his degree in art and design. Since graduating, he had been working as a freelance artist and animator… he often posted about how proud of his projects he was, and it was reassuring to see his enthusiasm had not diminished in the slightest over the years. One detail about his profile that immediately jumped out at me was his relationship status, which was currently set to single. Despite myself, I immediately felt a small flicker of hope ignite within my quickened heart. Upon further investigation, it appeared he’d been involved in several relationships over the years that had ultimately ended in failure, although the circumstances were unclear. I only hoped he hadn’t made a habit of dating unappreciative losers…

I managed to quell my anxiety briefly and force myself to send him a friend request, which almost immediately filled me with a sense of mounting dread. My anticipation wasn’t even allowed much time to simmer, because mere minutes after I sent the message I was notified that it had been accepted. Instinctively, I slammed my laptop shut and jumped out of my seat, forgetting that I was incapable of standing up so quickly without losing all feeling in my legs and face planting into the floor. I instantly regretted not taking Addy’s advice and getting that checked by a doctor, because soon enough the entire family was in my room gathered around my body and asking questions with varying degrees of concern and amusement. Although I had wanted to keep my activity a secret, at that moment I was swept away in the drama, and so I began to mindlessly rant about the situation.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but soon enough there were six pairs of hands all frantically scrambling for control of my keyboard. While I laid incapacitated on the floor, my friends had taken it upon themselves to respond to Anton’s messages, each expressing their own thoughts from my account in randomly alternating orders depending on who had managed to prevail in the wrestling. It seemed that Iara maintained the upper hand most of the fight, although it was admittedly difficult to tell over the frenzy at times considering my limited view from the floor.

Eventually, the chaos subsided and everyone turned to look at me with beaming smiles on their faces, some more devious than others. I immediately began to worry that they had sabotaged me somehow, be it in light-hearted jest or in an earnest act of betrayal, and so I asked them nervously what exactly they had done. For a moment it seemed they were trying to contain their excitement, but it didn’t take long for them to erupted into an uproarious celebration, complete with victorious chants that Anton was coming to meet us in person this evening!

I didn’t know how to react. All at once a tempest of conflicting emotions completely overpowered me… and I mean that quite literally. I knocked out cold, and when I finally woke up I discovered that not only had Kyler been trying to shock me awake by applying Takis to my tongue, but that the situation had not miraculously resolved itself. Although everyone else had mostly settled down, my mind was whirling a mile a minute with all of the things I had to do to prepare. I had a whole bucket list I needed to accomplish before I was comfortable standing in front of Anton again… and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t possibly get everything done myself over such a brief time. To my surprise, I didn’t even have a chance to put my reservations aside before they had already agreed to help me based off of my panicked listing of errands alone. Despite my reluctance to involve my new friends in the more turbulent aspects of personal life, it seemed they were actually eager to get involved themselves… I discovered that my problems were not an inconvenience to them, but rather something they were excited to help me work through.

The first obstacle I had to overcome was also the hardest… that being that I had never properly apologized to Gabriella and Lana for my dishonest and frankly abusive treatment. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t have the words to express my remorse or that I hadn’t processed my guilt, but that Gabriella’s parting words to me specifically informed me not to contact her and I didn’t want to once again disrespect her wishes. However, after some words of encouragement from the family, I managed to write a relatively concise three thousand word email taking responsibility for my past actions and wishing the couple well. As I was writing this post, I actually received a response from the two telling me they appreciated my apology and were glad to see I had grown into a more mature person. Apparently they have just finished settling into their cottage and are now doing better than ever. Lana even expressed an interest in meeting Addy and Iara in particular sometime… I suppose it’s a sapphic thing. I’m just glad that they’re finally living the happy life they deserve without being held back by backwards men.

My email took longer to type then I had expected, and although I certainly can not regret pouring my heart into the message given its importance, it did mean that we had to pick up the pace with the rest of the bucket list. Kyler took this quite literally, speeding at what must have been 100 miles per hour towards the mall despite nearly giving me a heart attack and my insistence that he not set such a bad example for Chris and Klav. We actually ended up getting pulled over, but luckily Iara managed to scare the officer away with her signature scowl. The next few hours were a frantic rush of errands, all focused on helping me actually express myself without the burden of repression. There were moments when it was a struggle, such as when I nearly hyperventilated in Claire’s before they pierced my ears, but ultimately I am immensely satisfied with the results. The most fulfilling moment was finally getting the tips of my hair bleached white to match my new profile picture. Chris actually got his hair dyed alongside me, changing his style from pale blond to black and white to reflect his new kin. It was incredibly rewarding to accomplish this alongside him… I had never been the subject of anything but disappointment from my parents, so it was an incredible feeling to be able to experience that absent parental pride for myself, even if it was with a different perspective.  

By the time Anton was forecasted to arrive, my appearance had been upgraded to better reflect my current sense of self… all that was left was for me to get in the right mindset. Luckily, my family was perfectly eager to act as my own personal “hype beasts,” as Kyler put it. They offered excellent emotional support in the half-hour we sat in the den patiently awaiting his arrival, especially Addy, who really took my mind off things by offering to play me in a game of chess. I lost quite handedly, but for once I don’t have it in me to be a spoilsport. When we heard that fateful knock at the door, they all immediately ran into the nearest closest and shut themselves inside to give us some space, but not before giving me a final set of encouraging thumbs up. I hesitated for a moment, questioning once again whether I was really ready to take such a big step in my life. My hand paused, hovering over the door knob uncertainly… until I heard the faint sounds of Steely Dan’s Come on Eileen coming from inside the closet, accompanied by the muffled sound of Klav’s giggle. Reignited by the familiar sounds of my favorite musicians, I swung the door open with a new and uncharacteristic conviction.

And there he was… I was immediately captivated by just how strong his presence was. My memories hadn’t done him justice… it really was like I was in the presence of an angel. I was comforted by certain familiar aspects of his appearance, such as his golden brown eyes that glistened like stars, his long curly hair with its comforting strawberry aroma, and his signature checkered scarf that he had been consistently wearing for almost decade now… but what really excited me were those new features. Normally I am turned off by change, but I was positively breathless as soon as my eyes wandered to the golden butterfly tattoo on his exposed shoulder. I felt as if I was going to faint for a second time in one day. 

I couldn’t find the words to express the depths of my emotion no matter how hard I searched my impassioned soul... there were no words strong enough. Instead I just cried, and wordlessly he accepted me into his arms… just like he had on that life-changing night all those years ago. I finally told him everything I had so obstinately refused to say during college… that I was gay, that I was in love with him, and that I was sorry. Although I was openly weeping, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more relieved in my life.

Eventually, he managed to pacify me… and so I was able to explain to him the entire story of the Kristahlia drama. It was difficult to explain that I had managed to go from discoursing with these teenage kinnies to adopting them, but he was as understanding as he ever was. He was so excited to meet my family that he even brought his cat Apple all the way from Michigan just to introduce her to them. I don’t think I have ever mentioned this publicly, but when Krissy died I had to take her dog Diogenes in myself, and I was surprised to find that the two animals got along perfectly. It really did feel like the entire house was accepting him... it was as if this was meant to be.

Since Anton had gone to all the trouble of making the ten hour drive to Iowa, he suggested that we might as well all hang out together in Cedar Rapids over the weekend. I suppose it’s a date... I must say that I am looking forward to it, as are the others. I know I didn’t deserve to be accepted by him again just because I spent a few hours shedding tears and profusely apologizing, but for once I don’t feel guilty that I have received something I don’t deserve. I just feel... an overwhelming gratitude for the opportunity.

I am certainly still inexperienced at this whole family business and have accepted that I will inevitably make some mistakes in the future, but I don’t think I’ve done too poorly for a first week, if I do say so myself. I am truly grateful to all the people in my life who have supported me through my journey, who have taught me that it is possible to rely on others without being a parasite and to be relied on without shouldering the entire burden. 

To my partners, my friends, my children, and my love... from the bottom of my heart, thank you. 

#sincerely adam

[elisaphoenix13]

(Your) Light In The Dark (Ch. 1)

Well, by a few requests, here is the start of Against All Odds in Quill's POV. There was a vote between this and a different high school story but after all the good ideas thrown at me, nothing clicked. So I decided to start with this for now.

It was almost disgusting. He almost didn't want to look around his classroom while his teacher spoke, just so he wouldn't have to see another girl bat her eyelashes at him again. Not that he didn't appreciate them...but that was usually from a distance. There was a reason he tried to keep his distance from the more popular girls. Ninety percent of the time they had one goal, and that was to get into his pants. He was pretty sure it was supposed to be the other way around, but it felt relentless. It was bad enough Rachel had her eyes on him. She was already spreading rumors that she and him were an item and it sent shivers up his spine.

Was it too much to ask that someone wanted him for him? To not care about bragging rights (something his friends said was actually a thing)? The part of the school that cared about high school drama (and didn't listen to Rachel) wondered why Quill wasn't in a relationship, and the answer was simple.

He wanted more than a simple fuck. He wanted to get to know someone. Then again, this was high school so that probably really was too much to ask. It was rare for high school couples to keep going with a relationship after graduation anyway. A guy could hope though.

Quill sighs with a mixture of relief and trepidation when the lunch bell rings, and takes his time throwing his books into his backpack. He brought lunch from home so he wasn't in any rush to get to the cafeteria, and while he liked taco day, he liked his grandfather's leftover beef stew way better. It was so good he'd eat it cold...but he wasn't going to. He would be able to heat it up if he asked the lunch lady nicely.

"Hey Quill! Are you stuck or something? Come on!" One of his friends calls when he sticks his head into the classroom.

"Hilarious." The senior retorts sarcastically as he looks around the now empty classroom. He had taken longer than he thought.

He gets up from his desk and slings his bag over his shoulder, following his friend to their lockers where Quill switched out books and got his lunch. They join up with more of their football friends outside of the cafeteria, and after they walk in and over to their usual table, Quill throws his backpack onto his spot. It hardly took a minute to coax the lunch lady to heat up his lunch with some added charm, and a few minutes later, he was back at his seat and eating his stew.

"Hey! I heard Coach was going to cut practice short today." Eric says to him as Quill shoves another spoonful of food into his mouth. "Something about his kid's play."

"Thank god." He replies after swallowing. "I could use a breather."

"Pfft... he'll probably work us twice as hard to make up for it." One of the other guys says as Quill stops eating to look around.

He had been feeling eyes on him since he sat down but when he finally looked around, the feeling went away and nobody seemed to be paying him any mind. Not even Rachel. One more glance around the room just gave him a glimpse of a student hitting another boy upside the head with a paperback but it was otherwise normal. No one was staring at him, so he shrugged it off and turned his attention back to lunch and divided a small amount of that attention to the conversation his friends were having. About football practice. Nothing new there. It was almost white noise at this point because it was the same thing every day. Go to school, die a little inside from boredom for eight hours, then spend two more hours getting his ass sacked in practice because his defense wasn't doing their job. Shower the muscle aches away, go home and do his homework, eat dinner, go to bed. Rinse and repeat.

Maybe add a couple hours of watching TV or listening to music in there somewhere. It depended on how he was feeling and if he had the time or energy. It was all a boring routine. He wanted something new in his life. To mix it up. It was another reason why he wanted an actual relationship.

His routine played out for the rest of the day as expected. The only difference being that the football coach was indeed going to cut practice short, and that his friend was right that they were going to be working twice as hard to make up for it. By the time practice was finally over, Quill was pretty sure he had more bruises than ever. He had never looked forward to a shower as much as he did today, and made sure he beat his teammates to one of the showers where he made quick work of washing up so he could enjoy the hot spray of the water massaging his sore muscles.

"Damn Quill, put that away." One of the guys jest and the captain rolls his eyes as he turns off the shower.

"No one asked you to look." He wraps a towel around his waist before making his way over to the locker his clothes were in.

"Kind of hard not to when it's there." Eric adds.

"You're just jealous."

"...yeah. Kind of. You've got girls dying to get in your pants!"

Quill snorts. "Guess it sucks they have to settle for you. Do they ask you if it's in yet?"

Eric scowls. "You're a dick Quill."

"You all made that clear three seconds ago." Quill says with a grin over the team's howling laughter.

They all knew it was in good fun. No one actually took any offense to jokes like that because they all took some kind of shot at each other, and even Quill had a few of his friends take a few stabs at him.

"Anyway, we're thinking of going to get pizza. Want to join?" Eric asks as they get dressed.

"Sure. I was just going to head home, but I wouldn't mind a slice."

"You mean a whole damn pizza?"

"I pay for my own food. Shut up."

Quill closes his locker before throwing on his sweater and he curses when he remembers that he left his wallet in his regular locker. He shouts to his friends that he'll meet them at the restaurant as he throws his backpack over his shoulder and runs out of the locker room. There was no one besides the team and maybe some stragglers in the library on campus, so Quill didn't bother slowing down on his way to his locker. He came to regret it thirty seconds later though when he rounded a corner and barreled into a student that was innocently putting his books away. The poor guy was smaller than the senior though so while Quill only stumbled in surprise, the other boy was sent straight to the ground and his books tumbled to the floor.

"Holy shit! I'm sorry!" He exclaims as he crouches down to help gather the strewn books. "I wasn't paying attention. My bad."

Quill looked over at his unfortunate victim to hand his belongings over and his heart skipped a beat. He found himself looking into the most beautifully colored eyes he had ever seen.

His eyes are gold.

The younger teen looked as if he were caught doing something naughty.

"The one time I don't pay attention to where I'm going." He jokes as he helps the teen to his feet and brushes him off. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

It was a plausible concern. The other boy was much smaller than Quill, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wanted to roll him up in bubble wrap and protect him from the harsh, unforgiving world. He wore a sweater that had definitely seen some usage, tight jeans that very pleasantly hugged every bit of his legs that Quill made sure to take a look at the back when he could, and then had the tiniest cowlick in his hair that he almost reached out to try and fix. He resisted though since he was pretty sure that wouldn't be well received.

Not a single word passed the younger's lips. He only continued to stare and Quill began to wonder if the guy could speak at all. Maybe he was mute? Quill's concern grows as the other turns back toward his locker to fumble his books back into it, but just when he turns back and finally opens his mouth to possibly say something, Quill was distracted by golden eyes again. His brain to mouth filter failed spectacularly on him in the next moment.

"Damn. You have some really pretty eyes for a guy." He blurts.

The blush that grew rapidly on the younger's face was just the icing on the cake. Quill did manage to take a look at what tight jeans were accenting when the other teen had turned to put away his books, and the senior was given an eyeful of hot damn. The smaller teen opened and closed his mouth like a fish, and just as Quill was about to ask him if he was okay again, the younger shut his mouth so hard he could hear his teeth clack together, made the most adorable squeak...and then hauled ass. By the time the senior processed what had happened, the other boy was already halfway around the corner (and his attempt to call out to him was all for naught), and Quill was intrigued. Most students either flirted with him or looked at him with obvious disdain (usually the students that despised the popular kids even though Quill was nice to everyone.), but that student? He did neither.

It was refreshing.

Who was that guy and why had Quill never noticed him before? He liked to think that he knew all of the students (at least almost all of them), especially someone as cute as that guy was, but he didn't recognize him. Maybe he was new? A transfer student? No. Even transfer students got some attention even if it was just for a couple of days, and Quill hadn't heard anything about one.

The only explanation at the time was that he was a guy that just wanted to get through high school with as little drama as possible, and Quill couldn't say he could blame him. High school sucked sometimes. Cliques didn't help.

He would have to figure it out later. Right now he needed to get his wallet and meet up with his friends at the pizza parlor so he could eat and hang out before he was expected home. He had all weekend to ponder about the mystery teen and how the everloving fuck he's never seen him before. Quill sighs and finishes his trek to his locker to grab his wallet, and then jogs a little slower (so not to accidentally bulldoze anyone else down) out of the building and to the parking lot to his car. He tosses his bag into the passenger seat as he gets in and then drives away after buckling in and starting the car.

It was on the short drive to the pizza parlor that Quill wondered a little more about the walking visible tease...and what he was going to do about getting rid of the sadness that was lurking behind honey-gold eyes. Sadness and loneliness that even Quill couldn't have missed. It wasn't the normal kind of thing he saw around school either. It was a cry for attention from someone that didn't seem to want it in the first place.

Damn.

This guy was already a walking conundrum and Quill didn't even know his name.

#antlord #peter quill #scott lang #high school au

[throwawayov]

The Case of You, Who Saved Me on Mondays

ReiRan Omegaverse AU. Not proof-read yet. Apologize for horrible grammar this is written at 2 AM lol not really intended for being published as well buttt yeahhh

TRIGGER WARNING : substance abuse

 --Sunday, Ranmaru Kurosaki POV--

"Ranran, are you perhaps...an omega?"

Fuck.

Ranmaru had played this scenario over and over in his head for countless times. What to say when someone suspects something. What to answer when someone asks. What to say when someone confronted him. What to do when some batshit insane alpha attack him. What to do when someone smells something…

But he didn’t quite prepare when Reiji was the one who asked. Reiji, of all people. The only person Ranmaru ever respect in the industry so far… his most endearing and strong Reiji.

He then counted the pills in his head. The shot. The supporting ointment. All the nasty chemicals he took in the morning as his usual buzz. All seemed fine. All should be fine. But the fact that they just finished a very tiring live concert concerned him. Is it my sweat?

No, no. This is Reiji, afterall. Ranmaru knew full well how the guy can say the most random thing just to annoy him without batting an eye.

I’m fine. I’m fine.

He put down his bottled water carefully on the table. He glanced at his own hand, making sure he’s not trembling even the slightest.

“What nonsense are you talking about? Stupid.”

He walked to the sofa and threw himself without even looking at Reiji. “I’m taking a nap,” he covered his eyes with his arm. His mind is still racing. Thank God Camus and Ai went out of the room already, else they would’ve picked up his crazy loud heartbeat when they sat on the sofa.

A couple of seconds passed. The lack of response from the oldest Quartet Night member disturbed his act.

God fucking dammit say something, Reiji. Or should I say something? No. No. But—

“Ahahaa, sorry sorry! I just want to see your reaction! Don’t be maad~”

Ranmaru can hear Reiji sat down on the sofa across him. Ranmaru didn’t move. His heartbeat and breath were suddenly a lot steadier. He wanted to take a nap for real now.

“Maybe you’re stronger than I thought?” Reiji said suddenly.

Ranmaru moved his arm from his eyes as he tilted his face. “What?”

Reiji smiled, “Nothing!”

Ranmaru knew it was Reiji’s stage smile. And he’s got a bad feeling over this.

---

--Sunday, Reiji Kotobuki POV--

Reiji Kotobuki never really liked being an Alpha. 

The pressure, the expectations, the way society treated him as the leader of the pack…it’s suffocating. The way some people smell so good that he needed to hold back his primal urge was maddening. He hates holding back. Yet he hates letting himself out bare. It’s disgusting.

His only channel to let out all his suppressed emotions were singing. The lights, the sound, the cheer, the dance, the team…they are his ultimate pills. On the stage, he never had to notice any tempting smells he always tried so hard to ignore. It feels so liberating.

And then here he was. On the locker room with just his teammate, the beta-rocker Ranmaru Kurosaki.

Reiji really liked the guy. What started as an admiration of the younger’s work ethics now already became something more… precious. He’s still not sure what to label this feeling as. It always fascinated Reiji; the way Ranmaru sings wholeheartedly on the stage, moves his body around with rough yet gentle precision, his rare but tender smiles, his smell…

Wait, did I just think smell? Gosh. There’s that smell again.

Sometimes Reiji can smell something when he’s alone with Ranmaru. It was always faint. At first, Reiji just thought it’s the former’s perfume. But this time it is far from faint and more than just perfume.

Ranmaru just exudes a really really alluring scent around him.

"Ranran, are you perhaps...an omega?"

Ah shit. Why did I say that out loud?

“What nonsense are you talking about? Stupid.”

He watched as Ranmaru threw himself on to the sofa. “I’m taking a nap,”

Reiji couldn’t believe himself, but the smell is getting stronger. It’s definitely coming from Ranmaru. It matched perfectly with his reaction; it’s the smell of omegas when they are very nervous. Unfortunately, Reiji knew this smell too well.

He is an omega, alright. How—Wha-Why is he hiding this? D-Does anyone else know? Isn’t it dangero—

His mind halted. To hide the fact that you’re an omega is an enormous, if not impossible, task. Alphas can sense omegas presence in a heartbeat. Reiji is an Alpha. Hyuuga is an Alpha. God, they even worked closely with four freaking alphas in STARISH on daily basis. There’s no way none of them never picked this up these past 5 years.

But then again, Reiji never really sensed anything strong either, until now.

“Ahahaa, sorry sorry! I just want to see your reaction! Don’t be maad~”

He slowly walked to the sofa across Ranmaru and sat down. He studied the younger’s face intently, as Ranmaru covered it with his arm anyway so he wouldn’t noticed. The smell didn’t go away…

He didn’t want to think about it. If Ranmaru is a beta, then that means Reiji can now even smell a beta’s pheromones, which is very unheard of, but… it’s plausible. And it made Reiji want to throw up. Really? Even beta? I’ve evolved into something more disgusting than I already am.

But if Ranmaru is indeed an omega… Reiji didn’t want to imagine what crazy stuffs Ranmaru had done to cover this up really well for so long. That must’ve been extremely difficult and painful.

“Maybe you’re stronger than I thought?”

Oh, fuck me and my blabber mouth. Why Reiji, whyyyy…

“What?” Ranmaru tilted his head and looked straight at Reiji’s face.

Reiji tried his best to act natural. “Nothing!”

---

--Monday dawn, Ranmaru Kurosaki POV--

Ranmaru Kurosaki really hates being an omega.

The day they announced his secondary gender result was the worst day of Ranmaru’s life. His parents were both alphas so the result was crazy upsetting for his whole family. No one wanted to admit this. An omega? In Kurosaki family? It must be a fluke. They proceeded to test him 3 more times.

The result was always the same; a full-fledged omega. Cue the cymbals, a joke of the century for the family.

He still remembered how his parents told him during middle school that they found a way to help him cover this up. To convert him into a beta. To patch the embarrassing stuff. To basically neuter him of his being. It was risky and cost a fortune…but his father was willing to pay anything for it.

In the end, the procedure was botched. Literally nothing came out of it. If anything, it created a deep emotional scar for Ranmaru rather than physical one.

Then his parents business crumbled with all the financial and emotional burden it created and the story went on just like a fucked up drama that is Ranmaru’s life.

Ranmaru Kurosaki really despises being an omega.

Right after arriving in his apartment, Ranmaru ransacked through his medicine cabinet. One, two, four, eight… he gulped them all. All these disgusting pills that keep me sane.

He coughed and almost threw up. He held himself together over the sink.

They are really just normal pills omega used to suppress their hormones. Normally omegas only took two kinds of medicine; hormone suppressants and birth control pills if they are sexually active.

Ranmaru is a virgin and he took 4 kinds of birth control just for the heck of it.

Sigh…now comes the hard part.

He steadied his breath. He glanced at three blue vials in front of him. This stuff is the most expensive thing on his chemical cocktails. The experimental drug his fellow bandmates introduced him. The holy grail for omegas like him, the ultimate suppressant.

Even someone who is physically strong like Ranmaru dreaded the aftereffect of this drug. It made him want to claw out his insides just to stop the scorching sensations it caused.

Just stop thinking and get this over with. He injected himself with the blue liquid quickly on his upper arm. He squirms. It’s painful. It’s painful. I’m dying. No—

He threw up on to the sink. Today is going to be great.

---

--Monday evening, Reiji Kotobuki POV--

“So, Kotobuki-kun, what is it like, being the only alpha of the group? You’re doing such a great job bringing the pack together nee~”

Reiji’s smile grew wider.

I want to punch this interviewer’s face right fucking now. Pack? Are we dogs now, bitch?

“Ah weeeeell, it’s just really fun because we are all friends, you know! It doesn’t matter whether you’re alpha or beta or omega, riiiight guys?” Reiji winked to all his teammates besides him.

Camus let out a scoff. “Hmpf. We never see him as an alpha anyways,”

“I believe we are a group of 4 betas here,” Ai added with a nod.

“Come on, guuyysss, why are you so meeeaaan!” Reiji pretended to cry. As usual.

The interviewer just laughed and move along with other questions. Reiji silently relieved that this antic never failed to please the outsiders. He glanced over to Ranmaru and caught the silver-haired staring at his face intently. That caught Reiji off guard.

“What is it, Ranran?” Reiji asked when both of them were in the changing room. Camus and Ai went out already for another interview regarding their duet project.

“What is what?” Ranmaru asked from the sofa in front of Reiji. He looked really tired his literal color almost gone from his face.

“The whole interview you’re just straight up staring at me and not saying much! Is there something wrong with my face? Or you just want to admit now that I look cool?? Is that it? Aaaww I’m so flattered, Ranran!”

Ranmaru put his palm over his face. “Ugh, just drop the act already,”

Reiji smirked. He knew already that Ranmaru is sharp. “Yeah yeah, but you know me, we need to be professionals,”

“You need to tell them to stop asking that kind of questions,” Ranmaru sighed. “You hate being an alpha, don’t you,”

Oh wow, it stings. “Hmm? Nooo? I never hated it?”

“I told you to drop the act. Just like me, you’re disgusted with yourself,”

Reiji drew his brows together. What feels like an eternity was only 5 seconds of silence. “What do you mean, just like you?”

Suddenly the room is filled with a really strong smell it almost suffocated Reiji. He put his hands over his nose and mouth, “What the—“ he saw Ranmaru on the sofa, clenching his chest. He didn’t know what happen but he looked so…red. And in pain. And breathless.

“Ranran, oh my God, are you okay??” Reiji stood up and tried to reach him. But the smell now literally suffocated him. It’s like a really strong chemical trying to burn and poison his head, but it felt so good.

What the hell—

“Get out, Reiji,” Ranmaru whispers under his labored breath. He’s drenched in sweat.

Reiji froze. His mind went blank but his body is burning for some reason.

“GET OUT, NOW!” Ranmaru now screamed. In pain.

Reiji took a step back. He clawed on his own head trying to control himself. What the hell what the hell what the hell—

“NO! Ranmaru where’s your medicine?? Where is it??” Reiji ran to the vanity desk and scrambled through all the bags on it. He trembled so bad he knocked everything off the desk. “RAN YOU BETTER TELL ME YOU BROUGHT YOUR MEDICINES,” He looked back quickly and noticed Ranmaru was crawling on the ground, both his arm clenching tight on his chest. He’s drooling a lot and struggled to breathe.

“My jacket,” Ranmaru whimpered. “—pocket,”

Reiji practically flied through the other side of the room to the hanger and scrambled through all the jackets in lightning speed. “This blue vial?? Is this it??” Reiji pull out something that looked like a strange blue epi-pen.

Ranmaru didn’t respond. His breaths become shallower and shallower. “Ranmaru!!” Reiji grabbed Ranmaru’s shoulder and shaking him hard. Though in this close distance Reiji actually almost fainted himself trying to keep his sanity intact.

He couldn’t think anymore. He administered the injection into Ranmaru’s outer thigh with haste. “UGH—” Reiji closed his eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore. This smell. This heat. He bit on his own lips hard.

“FUCK!” Ranmaru suddenly jolted open his eyes and screamed. He sat up and moved Reiji out of his way. He leaned on the wall and tried to catch his breath.

Reiji tried so hard to calm himself down. His labored breath and bleeding lips aside, his mind slowly creeped back to sanity. A minute passed just for them to slowly steadied their breath. “Ranmaru, listen to me, you fucker,” Reiji scratched his own head hard. “You are an omega, are you not?”

Ranmaru didn’t answer.

“That,” Reiji gulped. “That is a freaking heat if I knew one. That’s one violent heat. I never see an omega went into heat that sudden and look like they’re dying at the same time. And then, and then—What—What the fuck, Ran?”

“Shut up,” Ranmaru muttered.

“NO, I WILL NOT SHUT UP!!” Reiji screamed. “The-Then—What fucked up drugs did you just take? It went away just like that, Ran. What the hell? That’s not normal!”

“SHUT UP, I AM NOT NORMAL, OKAY?” Ranmaru screamed on the top of his lungs. “What do you want me to say? Oh yes I’m sorry I’m an omega guys, please be careful around me I am craving to be filled all the time yada yada yada?”

Reiji was still trying to catch his breath. His mind is a lot calmer now. “No—no, I’m sorry that’s not what I’m trying to say, okay?” He stood up and walked slowly to Ranmaru. “I’m—I’m just worried about you,” he extended his hand to help Ranmaru stand up.

Ranmaru looked up. “I don’t need your pity,” he said while slapping Reiji’s hand away. He stood up by himself slowly.

“I need to take a shower” Ranmaru said before opening the door. “Reiji, can I trust you not to tell anyone about this?”

Reiji couldn’t say anything. “Please?” Ranmaru added.

“…Okay,” that’s all Reiji could muster up.

This is just too much for me to handle.

---

Tuesday Dawn, Ranmaru Kurosaki POV

Ranmaru stood in front of his sink for a whole minute without even moving a single muscle. He looked horrible. He didn’t get a blink of sleep last night and the black lines around his puffy eyes looked worse than his ghostly Halloween makeup last year.

Out of all people, why Reiji?

He couldn’t stop asking this question in his head. His precious Reiji. The one who taught him how to be a professional on the stage. The one who smiled through all the sleepless nights just to not disappoint his fans. The one who showed him how to keep on going through anguish and distress. The one with the gentlest touch, literally and figuratively, out of all the people in the universe…

The only person who made Ranmaru want to appear strong every day.

The embarrassment of showing Reiji his weakest and most disgusting side had grown into gnawing pain in Ranmaru’s whole being. He always wanted to catch up to Reiji… It’s useless now isn’t it?

His eyes locked into his pills on his hand without care.

One, two, three…four…eight…

He fought back a sharp pain inside.

…twelve, thirteen…

And Ranmaru gulped them all.

---

Tuesday Dawn, Reiji Kotobuki POV

Reiji was driving way above the speed limit for the most of his sudden early morning trip. He kept one of his hand on his phone’s handsfree, trying to call Ranmaru for the bazillionth time.

Still, no answer. Goddamit Ran please answer my call I know you’re always up early…

Since last night Reiji couldn’t sleep at all. His mind wandered to the big revelation that is Ranmaru being an omega after all this time. He couldn’t stop thinking about the weird drugs. He was extremely worried.

When his morning alarm suddenly blazed off, Reiji decided to check on Ranmaru by calling him. He didn’t answer. At the beginning Reiji just thought he’s still asleep…

But then he remembered how Ranmaru is. His Ranmaru who always put his pride on his performance above all. His confidence and rock-solid belief in his performance he always gives on the stage… his most beloved and strong Ranmaru. What happened last night must’ve been really took a toll on him, right?

He called again and again, but no answer still. He became extremely worried.

And now here he was putting the pedal to the metal trying to reach Ranmaru’s place.

Please please please please I hope I’m just being a paranoid…

He reached Ranmaru’s place in record time and bolted to the door. He knocked slowly. “Ranran? It’s me, Reiji. Let’s go to work together?” Reiji called.

He knocked again, louder. “Ranran?? Are you okay??”

Silence. He tried to call Ranmaru’s phone again and listened carefully at the door. Ranmaru’s phone ringtone can be heard from outside.

He’s inside. Damn it—

“Ranmaru, please open the door before I open it by force!” He banged on the door again.

The lack of sound except the ringing phone put Reiji on edge. He took a couple steps backward and readied himself. “I’m coming in!”

He put all of his strength to his shoulders and threw himself on to the door.

It didn’t budge. Fuuuuuck it huuuurts, it looks easier in the movies…

He tried again. Twice, thrice…

The door finally gave in on Reiji’s sixth try. “Ranmaru!!” He screamed when he got inside.

He looked around the spacious flat and found no one there. He checked the doors hastily before finally opening the bathroom door.

What Reiji found inside was a scene from his true nightmare.

--- TBC soon

[threeletterslife]

Prescient

→ [5/7] of the Glossary Series

→ summary: The tears roll down your cheeks for no reason. It frustrates you. Why does thinking of your future make you cry?

→ pairing/rating: taehyung x reader | PG

→ genre: lowkey 100% angst | coming of age!au

→ warnings: mentions of death

→ wordcount: 2.6k

♫: Nap of  a Star by TXT | Beautiful Pain by BTOB

A lazy smile spreads across your calm face, stretching your lips slightly more than their usual stern line. Your legs remain crossed as you lean back leisurely, eyes fixated on the busy street ahead. Bustling people, cars zooming way past the speed limit, the light breeze and smoke-tainted air are your daily encounters; they’re what makes the city so cordial.

 You can take the time to notice every detail, every nitty-gritty aspect of your city life. Maybe you’ll spot a lady with half-curled hair holding a hot, chocolate muffin and a steaming paper cup of bitter coffee and assume she’ll be late for work. You can further assume that the muffin and coffee are for her boss — to appease him for being tardy.

 Maybe you’ll spot some cars honking at each other in the distance, and instead of analyzing the fuming drivers, notice the meticulous details of the black tires carrying their vehicles. Maybe you’ll spot several pigeons fighting over a half-eaten sandwich. 

 And then there’s your favorite part — counting cars. Not just any cars, but the red ones. Something about the color excites you. Sure, it’s the color of fresh, spilled blood. It’s the color of vengeance, scorching destruction and anger. Burning infuriation. But it catches the eye, and that was that. Besides, cars had always fascinated you. It’s a vehicle that can take you anywhere you want to go — if you had a little bit of patience and gas. There are thousands, maybe millions of places to visit, and to you, each car you numbered gave you an indirect experience of a new town, state or parking lot. So, sitting on the little porch of your apartment building, you’d count the red cars passing by. It was a tradition of your own.

 Just you, your city and the red cars. It helped pass the tedious days and took your mind off of stupid things from school. On rare days you were to get tired of counting, your eyes would wander around, resting on anything that a normal person would look past, but to you, it told a story.

 The abandoned lollipop that the ants were collecting near you? Maybe a little child dropped it and begged his mother for a new one — this time bubblegum-flavored instead of cherry that left a bad aftertaste on the tongue. Or maybe a clumsy teenager flung it because she was too lazy to find a trash can.

 The mysterious stain on the edge of the sidewalk? It could be a chewed up wad of gum that had been flattened out and darkened over the years. Or it could be the melted remains of a nice, chocolate ice cream.

 Those are the details you choose to see with such fastidious care. Or used to, anyway. Now, you just can’t seem to find the time to think, much less care about the small aspects of life. It’s been years since you’ve been able to count the red cars passing by your apartment building. Been years since you’ve been able to indulge in your delightful assumptions and stories about the city. Years since you’ve spent more than a couple seconds on that porch of yours.

 You yearn for the old days. The days of your youth where you could take the time to lose yourself in your far-stretched thoughts without worrying too much about the consequences of dilly-dallying.

 Now, everything seems to run on a tight schedule. Wake up at 5:30, eat, get dressed, go to school, come back home, do homework, eat, sleep only to wake up to do it all over again. It’s mundane, and it’s so not you.

 You’re a spontaneous soul — you’re not an organized robot. But hell, high school has even forced you to schedule your mental breakdowns. A particularly stressful day at school? Received a C+ on that presentation? (Public speaking had never been your thing.) You would come home after your classes, lock yourself in the bathroom and cry profusely (letting everything out) for exactly ten minutes before washing your face, fixing your hair and walking out of the room like you were completely fine. Any time over ten minutes would surely cut into your sleep schedule, which you learned should never be sacrificed.

 It’s not exactly living hell. You’re almost as familiar with mental breakdowns and average grades as with the city you grew up in. You’ve learned to become immune. Not exactly stronger, but quite tolerant.

 Besides, sometimes, right before you go to bed, you’d reward yourself with some time to think before drifting off to sleep. It was almost what you looked forward to every day. Just you, your pillow, your covers and your thoughts. But lying in the dark limited your ability to perceive objects and assuming their stories. So, often, you found yourself contemplating your own future — something quite unusual for you.

 You had never really thought about yourself. It was always something you noticed about others, not things you noticed about yourself. It was a nice twist, you suppose. Especially to think about what to do in college, or maybe even after that.

 What college would you go to? A community college for a happier but (possibly) less successful future and (probable) lower income? Or a prestigious college for a stressful but (plausible) rich future? Would you find love anytime soon? Would you have kids? If you had identical twins, would you dress them up in matching outfits? Would your future husband love you, or be in love with you? Would you love him or be in love with him? Would you be able to find an adequate job? Have a steady income? Would you live in an apartment? Or would you move away from your beloved city for your partner?

 The questions, worries and possibilities were endless.

 And those nights full of thoughts always ended in the same way. Your eyes would turn wet with unexpected tears, which would roll down, wetting your pillow in a steady fashion. You’d always blink in confusion and quickly wipe the tears away — it’s as if you can’t control your own emotions. Thoughtful nights ended in complete silence and puzzlement in your part. You went to sleep with a slight crease line to your forehead. But it was addicting to think, even worry about the future and you found yourself keep coming back, no matter how embarrassing it was to cry without control.

 High school passed by before your eyes. And you fared pretty well, in your opinion. Things were starting to get better. You still cried at any thought of the future, something you just assumed was some sort of dumb allergy at this point. But you were more relaxed and able to make more time for yourself.

 You met Kim Taehyung along the way, and he helped you find your spontaneity once more. Friendship turned into a relationship, and you were starting to see light in your future — even if you wept while thinking of it.

 “You shouldn’t worry too much about what’s to come, Y/N.” Taehyung smiles softly at you, encompassing both of your hands in his. “Don’t you know?” He squeezes your hands. “You’re always stressed because you factor in all the consequences of the future to every one of your actions in the present.”

 You nod, leaning in to rest your head on his chest. “I know. I’m trying harder to learn how to live in the moment.”

 “So… wanna count some cars?”

 You gasp, pulling away from your boyfriend. “But the English final is tomorrow! We have to study! If we fail that class —” Catching Taehyung’s look, you stop mid-sentence, smiling sheepishly.  “Sorry, it’s just hard not to worry.”

 “Y/N…” Taehyung laughs. “You’ve been studying for that final for months already, give yourself a break!”

 You huff. “Okay, okay. You know what? Let’s count cars. I call the red ones!”

“Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty —”

 “Will you stop counting out loud?” you laugh, lightly slapping Taehyung’s arm. “You’re literally flexing that you’re counting more cars than me!”

 “Well, I did play it safe. Red’s just not too common for a car color. Should’ve chosen silver,” Taehyung chuckles, tugging you closer to him. “We can always switch colors if you want.”

 “I’ll take my eight red cars with pride, thank you very much,” you reply, a grin pasted on your face as you lean your head against Taehyung’s shoulder.

 It’s silent for several minutes as both of you count the cars zooming past, and you relish in the peace. But your boyfriend nudges you slightly, softly squeezing your intertwined hands. You can tell he has something to say.

 “Hey, do you ever think about us?” Taehyung whispers.

 “Us?”

 “Yeah, like, us in the future, you know?” he clarifies, his voice soft and hopeful. “After high school…”

 “Of course I do,” you say, giving Taehyung a soft smile. You imagined the wedding, the children, even up to retiring together. Your mind slips past reality as you fall into the fantasies inside your head. You can almost smell the small, cozy home the two of you will share, feel the soft, pastel pink blanket for the baby. You can see Taehyung, slightly older, possibly with a well-trimmed beard, cuddling you in bed. The mattresses encompass your close bodies as the morning light floods through the glass windows. The curtains flutter from the light breeze outside and the birds chirp on a branch nearby, singing a bright tune to welcome you and Taehyung to a new day. It’s the epitome of peace, of happiness.

 “Y/N, baby, why are you crying?”

 You’ve done it again.

 “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Taehyung says, hugging you as he pats your back. “You didn’t have to think about us in the future if you didn’t want to. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to force you. Please don’t cry…”

 You’re just speechless, face buried in the comfort of Taehyung’s chest as tears wet your cheeks. “I… I—”

 “Y/N…” Taehyung breathes. “Is there something you want to tell me? Are you okay?”

 You almost contemplate telling him. But then again, he’ll worry if you do. So instead, you put a strong smile on your face and laugh. “No, don’t be sorry,” you say, tugging away from Taehyung’s chest as you attempt to wipe your tears off your cheeks. “I just get bad allergies these days. Must be the pollution, you know?”

 Your boyfriend looks at you skeptically, so you kiss his cheek. “Trust me, Tae. You only make me smile. You know that.”

 Taehyung sniffs but nods, bringing you into him. “I know…” He rubs small circles into your hand as you sink deeper into his arms. “Just promise me you’ll stop worrying so much.”

 “I’ll try.”

Now, life is not so mundane anymore. You don’t give yourself the time to sit down and think — living in a rush cleared mountains of worries away.

 It’s been quite a while since you’ve cried for contemplating your future, been a while since you’ve counted cars too. Been a while since you’ve seen Kim Taehyung.

 You’re still with him — he’s going to propose sooner or later. But he hasn’t called you in a while, ever since he left the country for school. You’re too busy to notice though. You’ve found that if you half drown yourself with work, you’ll never have time to think, let alone eat or sleep.

 It’s a life that suits you though, living in a rush that is. Maybe you were just never meant to waste your time dwelling on insignificant details.

 You wake up when it’s still dark out, quickly getting dressed in silence and making your way to the kitchen for some coffee. While the hot drink is brewing, you open up your laptop to scroll through emails. And you only start sipping your coffee once you’re on your way to your part-time job.

 Every day is quite the same, but it’s almost as if you don’t notice — you have better things to do than reflect on that. It’s fun to hurry, to rush things, to challenge yourself to get everything done in such little time. It adds excitement to your life, which might just be why you crave it so much.

 You’re quite impatient now. You can’t stand having to wait for anything — especially pedestrian buttons to finally signal the lights to shine green. In fact, you’re rolling on the balls of your feet, waiting for the slow traffic light. It doesn’t help the fact that you know Taehyung is finally back and is waiting for you at a restaurant on the other side.

 You think you’ve waited for at least five minutes (you know for a fact since your trusty watch is always quite literally at hand). The light still shines an annoying shade of red. It’s strange that the same red that you used to love so much now staunches your urge to hustle.

 You’d hate to keep Taehyung waiting, especially since you suspect that he’ll propose tonight. You check your watch again, then look up at the traffic light. Still red. With a huff, you hastily look to your right to see empty roads. Shrugging, and without a second thought, you bolt off the curb, running to the other side, heart racing to meet Taehyung after so long.

 Every step takes you closer to your boyfriend, and you laugh to yourself because you realize you should’ve jaywalked sooner. A smile stretches out on your face. You hope Taehyung hasn’t been waiting for too long. You wonder if he’ll look any different from the last time you’ve seen him. You wonder if he’ll smell the same, the fresh scent of an open meadow. You wonder if your fantasies about the two of you together would come true. You wonder if he’s grown a beard, or if he’ll have a beard in the future. You wonder if you’ll decide on kid names in peace, or what furniture to furnish your shared home. You wonder if he loves you now and if he’ll be in love with you in the future. You wonder —

 But then there’s a screech, a scream. You don’t know if it had come out of your throat, or someone else’s. Then it crashes into you. 

Your body is flung across the rough concrete. You hear horrible, blood-curdling sounds of snapping, cracking. You hear your own shallow breaths. Others’ screams. You can’t really see anything. But you feel pain. Seconds pass. You can’t seem to register your own agony.

 Your sight keeps flickering from a black screen to a blurry outline of the black cement. Red is seeping through it. Red liquid, a similar shade to the cars you used to count. It’s hazy. Everything is. Excruciating, unthinkable torment. Like torture. As if you want it to stop, but it won’t. Every second your mind spends awake is like living hell. You don’t know if it’ll stop; if it’ll even stop.

 There’s a persistent ringing in your ears. You don’t know where it’s coming from. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. Your head feels like it’s being ripped apart by two large hands. Like they were striking your brain with a metal bat, but slowly, taking their time to see how long you would last. There’s still screaming, suffering, internal chaos.

 It’s torture. You can’t stand it.

 Then everything stops altogether.

 Your eyes are still slightly open, wet with hot tears from the last fleeting thoughts of a future with Taehyung you had just seconds before your death. The future you’ll never get to have.

 Maybe it was this point in your life that you had known, all along, subconsciously, was inevitable.

—masterpost

—masterlist

#bangtanidx #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #prescient #this fic makes me sad :( #the worst part is one time i was in a math lecture and i just started crying?? like out of fucking nowhere?? #so yeah this fic was inspired by that moment of my life

[dancer-cotillion]

Fuyukichi Week Day One: First Date

For the Fuyukichi Ship Week! @fuyukichi-week

*

“How do I look?” Fuyuhiko asked as he exited his dressing room, addressing Peko.

“You look great,” she replied.

“You sure it’s not too formal? Or maybe it’s too informal.” He’d never been on a date before. How was he supposed to know how to dress for one? But he had to be sure to dress right because it’d be poor form to show up dressed inappropriately when he’d been the one to set up the date and ask Kokichi out. And this date was important, he really liked Kokichi and wanted this new dimension in their relationship to work, thus it was imperative he not mess any part of it up.

“You look great,” Peko repeated. “Now, if you don’t want to be late, I suggest we get going.”

Being late would be far worse than showing up dressed improperly. So, with a suppressed groan, he forewent the temptation to go over his outfit one last time and followed her out.

 -

Kokichi was standing on the sidewalk, twirling a finger through his hair as the limo pulled up in front of him. He climbed in and pulled the door closed behind him. “Hey Fuyu,” he said with a smile as the car started moving again. “You didn’t change your mind and stand me up. I was worried you would.”

“That… was a lie?” Fuyuhiko sure hoped it was. And it had to be right, Kokichi was just trying to keep him on his toes.

“Of course, it was. There’s no way you’d stand me up after how nervous you were about asking me out. You are a bit late though so I was worried that something might’ve happened. Gang life can be dangerous after all.”

“Nope,” Peko said from the next row of seats over before Fuyuhiko could respond. She was his personal body guard so of course she’d stick around while he was out and about. She was supposed to have closed the partition, separating the two rows of seats though so he could have some privacy. “He was just fussing about his appearance for too long because he wanted to look good for you.”

Fuyuhiko slammed the divider shut and locked it, turning his head to side to try to hide his blush as Kokichi laughed in response.

“You don’t need to worry about looking good for me,” Kokichi said. “You could dress up as a horror movie clown and I’d still be happy to see you. I do appreciate the effort though and you look fantastic.”

“Uh… thanks.” At least the effort hadn’t gone to waste. “You look good too.”

While Kokichi clearly hadn’t gone to great lengths to dress up, he had dressed a bit nicer than he normally did. And it looked like he might have even attempted to properly brush his hair for once before inevitably playing with it and sending it back to its normal messiness. Which was just natural for him now so Fuyuhiko didn’t mind.

“Thanks.” Kokichi was much better at taking compliments than him.

 -

As soon as they were dropped off at the restaurant, Fuyuhiko ordered the driver to leave, he’d text them when he needed them to come pick him up again. He told Peko to go away too and even though she didn’t seem pleased about it, she obeyed. Thankfully these days, she was getting better about putting her role as his best friend over her role as his bodyguard; the way it always should’ve been.

“Oh, it’s a fancy restaurant,” Kokichi said with an excited hop as they walked in. He looked around with an awed smile as if he’d never seen such splendors before. It… had to be fake though, right? There was no way he’d never been in a restaurant similar to this in the past. It wasn’t even the nicest restaurant Fuyuhiko had ever been too. There were plenty of places that were fancier and more expensive but those places were probably a bit too much for a first date.

“Yeah, you’d think I’d take you anywhere that wasn’t nice?” Especially for the first date. Fuyuhiko had to make a good impression.

“Well, I suppose you are rich so no, probably not.”

They were seated at a private table in the back and handed a couple menus. Kokichi eagerly started searching through his. Fuyuhiko wasn’t feeling particularly hungry but picked his up too. He was still a bit nervous even though everything was going well so far. It was unlikely anything bad would happen, they’d known each other for a long while now thus there wasn’t much either of them could do to make an interaction awkward or uncomfortable. But still a small part of him insisted he’d find a way to fuck this up.

“What the heck even is some of this stuff?” Kokichi asked after a short while. “Is it even food?”

Fuyuhiko lowered his menu to look at him. “You’ve never eaten at a French restaurant before? Really?”

Kokichi lowered his menu too, revealing a hurt look on his face. “I’m just a poor street urchin Fuyu, so no, I have not.”

“’Street urchin’?”

“Yep, I grew up on the streets and now live in an abandoned building in the shady part of town that also serves as the headquarters for my secret organization.” How casually he said it meant it had to be a lie. Fuyuhiko wasn’t going to let himself be fooled by it even if he had never been to Kokichi’s house or seen hide nor hair of his parents. It was a trap, meant to lure him into offering sympathy only for it to be shot down with a ‘that was a lie’. He’d fallen for such traps too many times before.

“Sure, whatever you say,” he said flatly. “Order whatever you like though, I’m paying. If you need help, I can suggest some things, I’ve been here a few times before.” Whether Kokichi was also lying about having never been to a French restaurant before was hard to say, it was plausible though so Fuyuhiko wouldn’t dismiss it.

If Kokichi was disappointed that his trap hadn’t been sprung, he was good at hiding at it as a large grin splayed across his face. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

 -

After they were done eating, they went for a stroll in a nearby park. By now most of Fuyuhiko’s nerves had died down. Kokichi had always had a way of distracting him from such things.

“Want to hold hands?” Kokichi asked as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Which well, it wasn’t unnatural, they were literally on a date after all so…

“Sure,” Fuyuhiko replied, totally not blushing a little. He was the heir to one of the most powerful gangs in the world, no way was he flustered about holding hands with someone even if he did have a huge crush on that someone. Was ‘crush’ even the right word now that they were on a date?

Kokichi took his hand, not pausing for even a moment. It was warm and his grip was firm. If he minded how sweaty Fuyuhiko’s palms suddenly were he didn’t show it.

They walked in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company and the scenery. It was in the midst of spring so the cherry blossom threes that dotted about the park were in full bloom. As a result, it was a popular park for couples. They weren’t the only ones there, though they were separated just enough he felt like they could be.

Eventually they ended up on a bench. Evening was starting to set in, they’d have to start heading back soon and go home.

“So uh… this was really nice,” Fuyuhiko said, fidgeting a little and not looking at Kokichi sitting next to him. They were sitting close enough that their shoulders touched.

“It was wonderful,” Kokichi agreed. “We should do it again sometime, possibly lots of times if you want to.”

“I’d uh… like that a lot.”

“Good, but that means you’re stuck with me now. You’ll have to try awful hard to get rid of me.”

Before Fuyuhiko respond with a ‘that’s fine’, Kokichi hugged him and kissed his cheek. “You’re mine now,” he whispered almost evilly in Fuyuhiko’s ear before pulling back. Leaving Fuyuhiko blushing like mad. At least it was only the two of them here now so no one else could see.

“Anyway,” Kokichi said as he stood, his tone cheery and bright once more. “I need to get going, I have super-secret stuff for my super-secret organization that I have to take care of. I’ll text you later tonight and maybe we can set up another date.”

“Wait,” Fuyuhiko said as he stood too. “I can call my driver back and we’ll give you ride.”

“Nah, that’s fine, it’s nearby so it’s easier for me to just walk. But first…” Kokichi stepped towards him again and… kissed him, on the mouth this time. His breath was warm and his lips were soft, it made Fuyuhiko’s head feel fuzzy as leaned into it.

But alas, it was over all too soon. Kokichi pulled back and immediately ran off with a giggle. Fuyuhiko let out a breath and shook his head to clear it as he watched him go. He didn’t bother chasing or trying to call Kokichi back, they’d talk via phone later tonight and could set up stuff then.

Overall, that had been a wonderful first date. It had gone far better than he’d ever hoped it would. He couldn’t wait to tell Peko about it on the way back home.

#danganronpa #Danganronpa V3 #Super Danganronpa 2 #Fuyukichi Week #Fuyuhiko/Kokichi #Ship Week #First Date

[cookieswriting]

Can’t Be Happening Pt. 2 (SEAL Team)

So yeah...this is gonna be a few more chapters than just the 2 I originally anticipated.  Kinda got away from me *shrugs* ooooh darn. Bit of language and violence in this chapter.

“Why the hell are we not going after these sons of bitches right fucking now?! Did we not all just watch the same fucking video?! Clay doesn’t have time for us to twiddle our thumbs and wait for the cake-eaters to weigh the costs of going after one of our own!” Sonny paced restlessly, images of his brother being manhandled by Doza’s men replaying across his mind.

Jason stopped him with a strong hand on his shoulder and steady stare.  “We can’t just go in guns blazing and expect him to still be alive when we make it to him, Son...we need to figure out exactly where he is and what we are going to do before we can get him back.  Let’s focus on that in the meantime, deal with the red tape if it’s still there when we have a plan, yeah?”  Sonny held his gaze for a long moment before relenting.  Jason nodded and turned back to the computer screen with a steadying breath. “We need to watch it again.  Captain, I need your men to identify anything that can help us determine where they are.”  He turned to Davis and Mandy.  “You don’t need to stay in here for this…”

Despite the tears in their eyes, both women stood firm.  “Not going anywhere, Bravo One,” Davis murmured.  Sonny found himself wanting to reach out to take her hand, both to give and take comfort as the hostage video featuring their youngest teammate began to play from the beginning.  Even before they pulled the hood off, the Texan could read the tension in Clay’s posture, could hear the hitch in his breathing.  Not to mention the blood staining his white Mexico shirt meant to cast him as a tourist.  Even before the bastards started filming, they’d done a number on the kid.  

And yet, once the hood was removed and he was forced to his knees, he refused to give any sign of faltering. Even when they punched him multiple times and yanked his head back by his sweat-matted curls, Clay refused to cower or beg for help.  When the video first came to their attention, the Mexican Marine captain had translated for them, relating Doza’s demands for money, release of cartel leaders, and their immediate departure from the country.  Watching it again, seeing the abuse his brother was suffering for him, spiked Sonny’s rage once again, and he turned and punched the nearest wall.  Trent pulled his arm back before he could strike again, and restrained him against his own chest.

“Easy, brother, this isn’t going to help Clay.  We’ll get the chance to make these assholes pay for this, we’ll bring our boy home, but if you break your hand you’re not going to be able to do much good for him.  Hold off on letting out that anger til we’re face to face with Doza and his men.”  After a few steadying breaths, Sonny backed down and forced himself to sit down.  Brock squeezed his shoulder, and they all turned to the local force as the video ended.

“This is a building in the center of Doza’s territory.  It will be very difficult to get to your man without him being alerted to your presence, and then your man will be killed anyway.”

“That’s not gonna cut it,” Jason replied, anger simmering just under the surface.  “How do we get to this son of a bitch and get my man out?”

“He has eyes everywhere, Master Chief. I’m sorry, I do not believe that it will be possible.”

“The brass Stateside isn’t going to green-light the rescue if we don’t have some kind of plan, Captain. We don’t need much of a chance...we just need something.  Please,” Mandy implored as the men grew more agitated and restless.  She took a slow breath, knowing her next words would not go over well with them.  “He deserves for his brothers to bring him home, whether this is going to be a rescue or a recovery.”  At that, Davis ducked out of the command center.  No one could deny her statement, though...they’d all seen the blood on Clay’s face, the tension and awkwardness in his posture that only they would recognize as signs of agony.  If they didn’t get to him fast, Clay Spenser would not survive his captivity, no matter how stubborn he was mentally.

The young SEAL in question was dragged from unconsciousness by the persistent stabbing pain of his abused muscles being strained, chained overhead until his now-bare feet barely touched the ground.  They’d used him for a ransom video for the American government, which he knew would have the guys up in arms.  As he hung...wherever they were, Doza’s men shouted demands at him in Spanish; questions about Naval intelligence, border protection weaknesses...the ususal.  

“Please,” he whimpered, emphasising his pain and exaggerating his desperation.  “I don’t know what you’re saying...I don’t know what you want.  I...I’m just a tourist…”

One of the men was suddenly in his face, and reached around to grab his hair roughly when the blonde flinched away.  “You were awfully calm during our little message for just a tourist.”

“I-I couldn’t understand a word you were saying, and it hurt to even breathe, man...I didn’t want to make it worse! I’m sorry, I don’t know what you want from me...please just let me go!” Fresh pain erupted across his cheek as his captor punched him again, and it took everything in Clay not to bite out a sarcastic comment.

“I don’t believe you.  My friends here don’t believe you.”  The man stepped back and drew a long serrated-edged knife.  “If you don’t give us answers, you are going to die a very painful death.  Do you understand me?”

Clay summoned as much fear as he could, and tears burned his eyes.  Well shit, this is gonna hurt…“Please!  Please, no, I don’t know what I could possibly tell you!”

“You were with US military agents working with the Marinas.  Tell me where there are weaknesses at your borders!”

“I wasn’t, I swear! I’m just on vacation from grad school! Nonono please-” The blade didn’t hurt so much as it sank into his right flank just under his ribcage.  No...it was the catching of the serrated edge as it was drawn back out that had Clay crying out and ready to sink into oblivion again.  

“Oh no, my friend, you do not get to escape just yet.  Tell me where your team is and I will end your suffering quickly.”  Clay sobbed through the pain, grateful for his ‘innocence’ cover giving him the excuse not to play tough.  Hopefully my team is getting your sorry sonofabitch boss Doza and this isn’t for nothing…

Jason looked up when Blackburn slammed the phone down, anger and frustration evident on his face before the Lieutenant Commander dragged his hand over it.  “There is no way in hell they denied us going after Clay,” Hayes growled.  All eyes turned to the officer, who sighed heavily.  

“They are saying the usual...we do not negotiate with terrorists and our team is too close to get him out without letting things get personal.”

“Any team they send would make it personal,” Brock muttered, petting Cerberus to calm himself down.  “Friggin’ cake-eaters don’t understand the concept of brotherhood.”  He looked up around the room.  “So how are we going to do this?”  Sonny and Trent nodded, and Ray leaned against the desk with forced calm.

“Blackburn, if you need to leave for plausible deniability-”

“Like hell I’m going anywhere,” Eric snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “By the time they would send another team down, if they even plan to, Spenser would probably be dead.  We are going after him now, and we will deal with repercussions later.  Captain.”  He turned, surprising his Mexican counterpart.  “What do we have?”

“You are going to disobey your superiors?” Garcia questioned.  

“As I said, there is not time to wait for a new team to arrive, and my men are considered the best for a reason.  We do not leave any teammate behind under any circumstance.” The Mexican Captain looked to each of the Americans for a long moment before nodding with a grim smile.

“You know the guys would never leave you behind.  They’ll come for you soon, baby...you’ve just got to hold on a little bit longer, okay?  Stay with me.  I’m right here.”  The comforting, familiar scent of Stella’s shampoo filled Clay’s nostrils, and he wanted nothing more than to nuzzle into her hand, warm and comforting on his cheek.  

The second he shifted his head, though, agony seized his entire body, and the young SEAL was jarred back to reality.  Stella...Stella wasn’t with him.  Thank God for that, Clay thought to himself.  Even though it hurt to remember that Stella had broken things off with him before they’d shipped out to Mexico, the thought of her being with him in this hell-hole made him nauseous.

Or maybe that was the hole in his gut, the probable concussion, the fact that his arms were screaming at him as his feet began to cramp trying to hold his weight on his toes.  He knew without a doubt that his brothers would come for him, but found himself beginning to doubt that they’d make it in time for a rescue.  The blood soaking his side was enough for him to worry about, and explained how lightheaded he was.  If he was hallucinating, though...must be closer to the end than I thought.  

“Oh, our blue-eyed friend is back in the world of the living!” Clay tried to lift his head, suddenly feeling like it weight two hundred pounds, and clenched his jaw to fight back the bile rising in his throat as the room spun.  “Well, mas o menos...hey! We’re not done with you yet, man! You can tell me all you want that you’re just a tourist, but I am calling bullshit, so wake your ass up!”

No matter how hard he tried to comply, Clay couldn’t gather the strength to move more than his eyes.  The cartel thug in front of him became increasingly annoyed and started ranting in Spanish, but the blonde’s mind was too sluggish to translate.  A sudden crack accompanied an explosion of agony in his left leg, which no longer bore his weight.  His already-strained shoulder gave out with the lurch of added weight, and Clay lost his battle against throwing up.  

Time stopped making sense after that.  Any moment of awareness was overshadowed with black dots dancing across his vision, and anything that they might’ve been saying to him was completely lost.  Every inch of his body was pain...his wrists, chafing from the shackles. His left shoulder, at least dislocated.  His face, beat to hell. His abdomen, still leaking.  His left leg, probably broken, right cramping from bearing his weight.  It was a miracle that he was still conscious, let alone breathing.  

The distorted sound of gunfire erupted around Clay, and lights flashed in his eyes.  Shouts were abruptly cut off, and Mexican Marina camo filled the room.  Sonny’s face filled his field of vision, and Clay was sure he’d started to hallucinate again.  “We’ve got you, brother...just hold on a little bit longer...gonna get you home...take you down first...gonna hurt…” His brother’s voice kept cutting in and out, probably along with Clay’s consciousness.  Did that mean they were really there?

“So...Sonny...please...don’t let Stella...blame herself,” Clay breathed, breath catching as they moved him.  Not a hallucination then...his brothers had really come for him.  He knew they were bracing him to bring him down from the chains, but couldn’t work up the strength to warn them about his potentially broken leg, so when they did ease him down and his foot touched the ground, the stab of pain sent him back into oblivion.

#SEAL team fanfic #clay spenser whump #CBH pt 2 #clay spenser #sonny quinn #bravo team

[i-am-church-the-cat]

Into The Forest

This is for @tj-is-tgay . You seemed pretty invested in this crack ship, so I figured I would get on the bandwagon. Sorry that it’s rushed. 

---

The nymph watched as the strange creature traveled cautiously through the forest. Reed had never seen a human before, at least, he assumed the thing walking by was a human. When the other nymphs had heard that an unknown beast was traversing through their lands, they had been wary, choosing to hide deep within the forest. But Reed hadn’t been scared. In his opinion, no creature could be a threat to him, not in the forest. The others had warned him not to go, but all he was doing was observing the human.

The human was taller than Reed, but his features were plain, with pale skin and brown hair and eyes. Reed had to admit, the human wasn’t unattractive, even if he wasn’t as colorful as the nymphs of the forest. The human wore clothes made of wool instead of the plant fibers Reed was used to. The human was clumsy in the forest and their walking was loud enough to wake the trees. It had no grace or sense of decorum. Reed was perplexed by it. How could the others be scared by such an open and vulnerable species?

Reed crept closer to the human. What would the creature hope to accomplish in the forest? Humans weren’t exactly accepted by the fairies, elves, and nymphs that normally occupied these lands.

Suddenly, the human snapped around to where Reed was sitting on a low hanging branch. Reed froze before relaxing and offering the obviously on edge being one of his cunning grins. It was probably less reassuring and more frightening, but all the human did was give Reed a hard stare.

“Who are you?”, the human asked.

“I should be asking you that”, Reed replied gracefully falling from his place on the branch. The human retreated a few steps when Reed hit the ground. “I’m Reed. What’s a human like you doing so far into the forest?”

“I’m searching for my sister. She was taken by a tree nymph”, the human, Marty, answered, still on edge, but obviously letting his guard slip.

“Well, that’s entirely plausible, we nymphs are very impulsive creatures”, Reed explained nonchalantly, though he was careful to watch the human’s reactions. “Do you know who took her?”

Marty shook his head. “All I know is that she had blue hair and black wings.”

Reed’s blood ran cold. The only nymph with wings was the fallen air nymph, Malion. If she had taken this boy’s sister, she was probably already dead. For some reason, Reed felt sad for the human at the thought.

“Listen, if what you’re saying is true, it would probably be better for you to go home now. No one goes to Malion’s place and comes back alive.”

Marty scowled and shook his head vehemently. “I have to get her back. I was supposed to protect her and I didn’t. What kind of older brother would I be if I just gave up on her?”

A sensible one, Reed thought, though he could see on the human’s face that this was not what he wanted to hear. Reed shook his head. Who knew humans were so insistent on getting themselves killed. Reed sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose when he realized he couldn’t let the human go in there alone.

“Ok”, Reed said. Marty who had been ready to return to his trek whipped around. “If you’re so sure you want to do this, I’ll show you the way.”

“Really?”, Marty confirmed, eyes widening.

Reed shrugged an tucked his hands behind his head before walking in front of the human. “I’m always doing something stupid. I guess today it’s this thing.”

***

Marty was nervous. He had tried to act tough and self-assured when he first met the nymph, but he had never left home. Sure, he’d done a lot of stupid stuff, causing a sheep avalanche and falling through the roof of his family’s hut being a few of them, but he had always had to look after his sister Ana, he didn’t have time to go out traveling the world. Not that I’d have enough money to do that anyway, he thought sourly as he followed the blue-eyed nymph through the forest.

Reed intrigued Marty, probably more than he should’ve. Any sane person would’ve run as soon as they saw the trickster nymph, but Marty was known for being a dumbass. Even so, he definitely shouldn't feel as drawn to the nymph as he did or get distracted by how his spiky blonde hair shown in the rays of sunlight that fell through the treetops. Reed seemed to bounce through the forest as if the roots and fallen leaves weren’t even there. He looked like he was just a part of the forest, as much as the trees or the dirt or the animals were. Being a creature of the forest, it made sense.

It was their third day of traveling and after hours of walking in silence, Marty decided to breach a topic he was curious about.

“How did you get your name?”, Marty asked. It was no secret that nymph names had hidden meanings, but Marty had never known exactly for what purpose. Reed flashed him a glance over his smile before answering.

“My father grew up by a lake. He’s a water nymph and I got my eyes from him. Reeds were often frequent along the banks of the river, and since my mother was a sand nymph, they chose the thing that was in between them.”

“Well, what makes a nymph a certain kind of nymph?”, Marty asked, still not seeming to grasp the concept.

“Well, it’s kind of like our source of power, where we were born, our homeland. We’re always stronger there”, Reed explained. As he talked, he turned so he was walking backward while conversing with Marty. He seemed just as comfortable walking forward as backward.

“So you’re stronger when you’re around reeds?”, Marty teased. “Why not just take them along with you?”

Reed shook his head, though not in a disbelieving way. “Doesn’t work. It’s the place itself, not just the object. Trust me, I tried.” Marty nodded along before something caught his eye.

“Hey, what’s that?”

Reed turned around and the two walked out into a clearing where a waterfall fell into a lake. What was strange was that the water seemed to come from nowhere and the water couldn’t have been up farther than Marty’s shins in any place. Reed tensed, sensing something Marty couldn’t. Suddenly, a chair appeared in the middle of the lake, a blue-haired nymph lounging gracefully in it.

“Aw, has the human come to get his sister back?”, the kidnapper mocked. Marty started to approach the woman but Reed held him back.

“Playing with humans Malion? I would’ve thought it was above you”, Reed interjected, looking bored.

The nymph was unimpressed. “I’m not the one leading one through our homelands unrestrained. You know what happened the last time your curiosity went unchecked, Reed.”

Reed looked regretful at that. It was strange, Marty having only seen him looking nonchalant or amused before. “I’m well aware”, he said, his voice strange. “Though I doubt yours is anymore founded. Why do you need a human child, anyway?”

“I don’t, but I can’t just let human’s say whatever they want about me. If this boy had kept his mouth shut, maybe his sister would be safe at home”, the nymph explained, giving Marty a pointed glare. Marty cast his head down at the memory of what he had said to the nymph. She had insulted the village and so he had defended them and may be added in a few choice insults. The nymph had sprouted wings and Marty was sure he was about to die when his sister had run in front of him. Marty had cried out, but by then, the nymph had whisked her away toward the forest.

Marty looked up to see Reed looking at him sympathetically. For the second time that day, Reed came to a decision that didn’t seem to please him very much.

“What do you want?”, Reed asked Malion, eyes not leaving Marty’s face.

“Mmm, already making deals for this human. How long have you two known each other again?”

At this, Reed did turn to face Malion. “What do you want?”, he repeated.

Slowly, the nymph smiled. She opened her mouth and

***

Reed sat in the limbs of a tree on the edge of the forest. It was a week since he had helped Marty save his sister, but it felt like longer. Malion had made a deal with Reed, that if he erased Marty’s memories of ever encountering a fairy, she would return his sister. Marty had protested claiming they would find another way, but Reed knew there was no other way. Somehow, Malion had seen the small bond that had grown between them in the few days they were together and decided that they only fair trade of someone of worth was someone else. Reed had understood, still, it had hurt erasing Marty’s memories and delivering him and his sister back home.

Now, Reed was sitting in this tree, hoping to catch a glimpse of Marty in his village. So far he hadn’t been able to see anything. Reed was about to head down for the night when he elt the tree shift before him. He looked down to see Marty a few limbs down. Reed sat in awe as the boy got to where the nymph was sitting here.

“Hey”, Marty said, albeit a bit breathlessly.

“W-What are you doing?”, Reed asked incredulously.

“I saw you sitting up here and I felt a weird urge to come and talk to you”, Marty said. “I’m Marty.”

“Well Marty, this was a pretty dumb plan you had”, Reed replied slyly as he started down the tree.    

“Hey”, Marty called, causing Reed to look up. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

Reed grinned and gave the human boy a wink before slipping off into the forest. That night, the boys dreamed of a bright nymph and a daring human, respectively.              

#andi mack #Meed #fanfic #i really liked this though the ship was new

[looselucy]

- Catch Up -

2018 “I’M HERE, I’M HERE!” I heard Harry call as he burst into my flat. “LONA?” “AAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!” Was all I groaned back, my head in my hands and my mood on the floor. After grabbing my tampon box to find it empty, I had text Harry rather frantically begging him to pick me some up and bring them round. It had taken him all of five minutes.

He appeared a few moments later, and I heard him sniggering, not looking at him but extending one arm to accept the gift he was presenting me with, wishing my weekend was off to a better start. “I’ll leave ya to it.” He grinned, shutting the door as he left me alone in my bathroom to sulk. Once it clicked shut, I finally tore into the box, my stomach practically falling apart, hearing my idiot of a best friend trying to hold in his giggles from outside the door. “I don’t wanna be a woman anymore.” I huffed as sorted myself out. “No?” “No. I’m done with it. I’m totally done. I see no benefit to being a woman, so I want out.” I’d met Harry Styles four years earlier. We worked together for a few years at a restaurant, and on my very first shift, he’d purposefully sent me to the wrong table with the wrong order and laughed about it so much that I immediately liked him. I knew that for some people, that sort of thing would have made them despise him, but that was the one thing that had helped me to ease and stop feeling so utterly daunted. For three years, a shift didn’t feel enjoyable unless I knew Harry would be working too. I’d walk into the grimy kitchen and see his curly locks and immediately feel better. He was fun, he was loud, he was kind and silly and he worked really hard. Everyone who worked there loved Harry. Four years later, he was the very best friend I had. When other friendship fizzled and distanced and weakened, ours became stronger. When personalities and lives began to clash, our bond grew and thrived. Through every up and every down, Harry was there, holding my hand and making me laugh and dashing to the nearest shop to buy me tampons. I was forever grateful for him, and the fact he was only a five-minute walk away. “What about multiple orgasms?” He mulled. I finished up and rolled my eyes, washing my hands before swinging the door open and glaring at him with dead eyes, seeing him eagerly awaiting my reply. “Multiple orgasms?” I flummoxed. “Yeah!” He shrugged. “Do you wanna know how many lads have managed to give me multiple orgasms?” I shot, his silence forcing me to reveal the answer. “Zero. Fucking none of them. I’m lucky if I get to go once. So maybe if I benefitted from the fact I can have multiple orgasms from anyone other than myself, it would be a bonus, but it’s not.” “You’re obviously having sex with the wrong people.” He smirked. “You’re right. I’m having sex with men.” “Don’t generalise us!” “Well when you all start learning how to please a woman, I’ll stop.” I sulked through to my living room, flopping dramatically down onto my sofa before I started groaning once again, feeling exceptionally sorry for myself, as I always did at that dreaded time of the month. Harry followed me briefly, before leaning against my doorway, biting his lip and watching me. “You need anything else?” He asked. “Death would be good.” “Alright. How do you want me to do it?” “Rip my insides out, if you want. The whole stomach… womb area.” I gestured unenthusiastically. “Just rip it out.” He grinned for a moment, dropping his head before he looked back up to me, clearing his throat. “Alright, I’m gunna shoot then.” “Where ya going?” I puzzled. “Gunna go meet Sara. M’running late now because of you!” “Shit, I’m sorry. You should have said!” “S’fine.” He smiled. “How are things with her?” “Good! Almost six months now.” He seemed very proud of himself for being in an official relationship for so long, and his sweet exterior made me smile. He’d met her through a guy at work and was so attracted to her, I didn’t think he would ever pluck up the courage to approach her. He was terrible with girls at the best of times. I was chuffed that he’d somehow managed to charm her. “I never thought I’d see the day.” “We’re gunna go out tonight, have a few drinks. You wanna tag along?” “I don’t wanna be a third wheel.” I cringed. “You won’t be. There’s some people going from her work, so… you’ll probably be saving me, if anything.” “Um… Okay. It’s either that or staying in and feeling sorry for myself. Which… does sound kind of good, so… I dunno. I’ll think about it and let you know.” He was still stood in the doorway staring at me despite the fact he was already running late, a dozy little smile on his face, shaking his head at me. Harry moved around the world gently, as though he didn’t want to disturb it. Despite how boisterous he could be from time to time, he was generally soft; soft spoken, soft natured. He toughened sometimes, for the sake of those he loved, but usually it was like he was gliding around the world, not disrupting anything or anyone. “Piss off then.” I told him, nodding my head towards my door. “Thanks for saving me.” “Always. See you tonight, yeah?” “Possibly.” He shot me a sweet wink before finally walking back out the front door, whistling away to himself as he did, as chipper as ever. A few months earlier, myself and Harry had gone to get spare keys cut and exchanged them, because it had genuinely reached the stage where it was problematic not having that convenience. There was no need for him to knock, he was always welcome, and I was always welcome at his. We lived our lives bizarrely in sync, it made sense to have easy access into what was practically my second home. I silently mulled over my options for the evening. It was a Saturday, and I usually let my period be the one time of the month where I felt it was plausible to spend my Saturday night in. I worked a nine to five, Monday to Friday job, and that meant I usually milked my weekends for all I could, other than the weekend I thought I might bleed to death every month. But I knew I’d probably end up out. I was terrible at saying no to drinks and even worse at saying no to Harry. I wasn’t sure how easily I would fit into the evening, but I knew my best friend was exceptionally good at making everyone feel included and welcomed at all times, so he was bound to put the effort in and make sure I didn’t feel like I was just tagging along. It looked as though my mind was made up, but the thought of thinking up an outfit made me groan aloud and never want to leave the house again.

Sara always smiled at me like she was meeting me for the first time. A little unsure, a little sceptical, a little intrigued. I’d spent numerous occasions with the girl, I’d even held her hair back once when she got sick on a night out, but every time she saw me, the initial smile and greeting I received from her was one that suggested the two of us had never met before in our lives. She’d always ease soon enough, and the two of us got really well, which was good. I knew it made Harry happy. He’d been with a few girls who absolutely despised our friendship. “Hey!” I greeted as I reached them, both stood hand in hand, Sara with that classic unsure smile once again. “You’re both looking dapper.” It was freezing outside the bar, and I could tell that Sara wasn’t too impressed with having to wait in the cold weather for me to arrive, but I was not impressed by the fact that neither of them told me I was supposed to dress up, so I felt like we were even. “C’mon, it’s bloody freezing!” Harry rushed me. I rolled my eyes and followed them inside, because it was Harry’s bloody idea to come and meet me outside anyway, like I wasn’t perfectly capable of opening the door by myself. They’d already been there for a while, and I’d told him specifically that there was no need to meet me outside. I think it was just something he projected onto me, because Harry hated arriving at events on his own. I trailed behind the two of them as we headed over to a group of people who had gathered around the bar, and that was all took for me to wonder why on earth I’d decided to tag along. There wasn’t a single part of me that was rushing to meet the people Sara worked with, and it was the exact kind of social situation where I would struggle. It was just an excuse to get out of my flat and have a few drinks but I was already wishing I’d had better options available to me. We reached them, and I mirrored that unsure and timid smile that Sara always gave me as they turned to face us, Harry nudging his girlfriend and whispering harshly that she needed to introduce me to everyone, and I was feeling less comfortable by the second. “Oh, um… Everyone, this is Bellona. She’s Harry’s best friend.” I hated that she’d used my full name, but I remained as chipper as possible. “Bellona, this is some of the people I work with. The fun ones.” They all cheered at that comment, a few of them lifting their drinks in the air. Sara worked for a recruitment agency in the centre of the city, so I knew she worked with a lot of people of all ages, but the people she was with that night were all pretty young, except one woman who definitely looked like she was in her sixties and more fabulous than I could have ever wished to be. “Bellona?” One lad spoke to me. “As in the Roman Goddess of war?” “It’s really not fitting to me, at all, which I think is one of the many reasons my mum regrets calling me that.” “I think my mum regrets calling me Lewis just because… it’s a really boring name.” “Shall we swap?” “Sorted.” He nodded, grinning wide. I needed a drink, and quickly, because I was planning on flirting with this Lewis chap for the rest of the evening and I would need some liquid courage to do so. “You wanna drink?” Harry stepped ahead of me as everyone began to converse again, getting back into the swing of the evening. “S’okay, I’ll get one.” “Lona, I know you’re skint, just let me get you a drink.” It was the weekend before payday, and Harry was more than aware that that would mean I was down to my last few quid. I innocently batted my eyelashes up to him, silently accepting his offer of a drink, and he moved further towards the bar. I edged towards Sara, craving someone familiar already and I’d barely been there a minute. “How’ve you been?” I asked her. “Yeah, I’m good.” She smiled. “Are you?” “Yeah, I’m alright. Ready for a drink.” “How’s things at work?” “I dunno.” I shrugged. “They’ve just mentioned massive losses and then not said anything else, so fuck knows. I’m trying not to worry about it too much.” Around a year earlier I’d managed to bag myself a job for an up and coming fashion retailer, working in their social media department. It was an absolute miracle, I thought, considering when I felt to be a total lack of style, but they seemed to like me and I liked the company. But it turned out things hadn’t gone too well for the past year, and despite the fact that they were only based online and they merely had one warehouse and one set of offices, they were losing money. I’d gone into work filled with paranoia for around two months, and it was getting rather exhausting. “That’s so harsh.” Sara sympathised. “I know. I’d rather just… know what’s going on. Like if they’re gunna fire me, just do it! Y’know?” “Yeah, definitely. Nothing worse than being so unsure.” Harry turned around, passing over Sara’s drink first, and she thanked him quietly with a soft smile. I leaned a little closer to Sara before whispering. “What’s the deal with Lewis?” “He’s alright, y’know.” She shrugged. “I don’t know him that well, but… he seems alright. You interested?” “Maybe. He’s pretty cute.” Harry turned around holding my drink and his, quickly handing mine over and joining the conversation, wrapping his now free arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder. “You should definitely do it. Why not?” Sara beamed. “He’d definitely be up for it.” “Who’s up for what?” Harry tried to play catch up. “She’s going to shag Lewis.” “What?” His eyes went wide as he turned to me. “Why do you seem so shocked by that?” She chuckled, seeming rather astonished. “Lona can’t have casual sex.” “He’s right, I can’t.” I shrugged. “No idea how to not get ridiculously attached to someone after sleeping with them. So I will not be sleeping with him.” I liked dating people. I liked getting to know someone and actually being with them and establishing something. I’d made the mistake more than once of thinking I could just have sex with someone and leave it at that, but every time I’d woken up the morning after, my beer goggles having been replaced with heart shaped specs and I would feel something, no matter how minor and no matter how hard I tried to fight it. I would always come out on the other side feeling somewhat hurt. Dating was easier than that for me. I could feel the possibilities and gage fully if something was going somewhere before I let my feelings jump in and involve themselves without permission. “I’ll talk to him a bit.” Harry nodded, taking a quick sip of his drink. “See if you’re well suited.” “Cheers, mate.” “And if you are?” Sara asked. “Then… we’re double dating.”

“So why did you move to Liverpool?” Lewis asked. “You’re gunna think I’m stupid.” “Go on…” “I… I really love The Beatles.” Due to his strong accent, I could tell he was a local, meaning he was bound to love The Beatles himself because it was immoral to feel otherwise as a Liverpudlian. But even so, me saying that made his brows drop and his lips lift. “You serious?” “I love them. They changed me! I am not me, without The Beatles.” “That’s the only reason you moved here?” “Well… it’s a great city.” I mulled. “And… Yeah, it’s definitely the main reason I moved here.” “I bet Ringo is your favourite.” “HOW DID YOU KNOW?” He just shook his head at me, but he had this look on his face that suggested he was enjoying every minute, every word and every revelation. “I’m gunna go for a smoke.” He eyed the door. “Fancy one?” “I don’t smoke. Thanks though.” He shot me a wink before heading to the door, and the very second he’d hopped off his stool, Harry was on his way to me, raising his brows and taking his spot. He settled immediately, lifting his brows suggestively, to which I rolled my eyes. “So?” “So what?” I whelped. “Been talking to him for like, half an hour!” “I spoke with him earlier. I think you’re well suited. He seems like a good lad.” “You have such a terrible taste in men though, so that just puts me off if anything.” He put down his empty glass and then stuck his middle finger up at me, still refusing to accept his dire taste in men even after so many painful dates. I was glad he’d finally found himself settled in a relationship so it wasn’t a torture I’d have to continue facing. “Me and Sara are gunna make a move, if you fancy walking home with us.” “Ooh yeah, let’s go!” “You not going to say goodbye?” “Nah. Let him think I’m mysterious and I’ve slipped off into the night.” I jumped off the tall barstool and began heading towards the door where Sara stood waiting, Harry following me with tight chuckles tickling his throat. I was rather grateful to be calling it a night so early. The drinks had helped me to ignore my uterus practically falling apart, but the fact of the matter was that my stomach was in agony and my best place to be was wrapped up in bed. The three of us were waddling down the street before Harry continued to interrogate me about Lewis. “So, do you want Sara to set up a double date then?” “Urgh, what is it with you two and double dating?” She groaned, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, what is that about? Can’t you go on a date on your own?” “Blame Harry. I used to be able to do it, but now I can’t!” “Dates are fucking terrifying!” Harry justified. “It’s good to have other people there to help you through that first one. And Lona is never afraid to just walk out of a date, and that’s meant I could follow her loads of times. She’s perfect. I can’t date without her. And now she can’t date without me! We need each other.” “It’s… pathetic.” Sara huffed. Sara should have been thankful, really, because I had been present on her first date with Harry, and I’d given her the thumbs up and calmed Harry enough so he could go on the date in the bloody first place. He liked to hear if I approved of someone, because no one really knew him quite as well as I did. I’d been perfectly fine at dating before we got into this bizarre routine where we literally had to double date. “Okay, so, if he mentions me to you at work on Monday,” I smiled to her. “You can suggest the double date. If he doesn’t, then forget it.” Sara, still seeming completely baffled by the whole thing, nodded and agreed to the deal, and the three of us battled the journey home through the light drizzle and infuriating gusts. Even so, the three of us were in relatively high spirits, enough drinks down to be cheerful and ignorant to the weather, but not too many down that we were stumbling our way home and possibly ending the night cradling a toilet. Besides, if I could get a good date out of Lewis I would officially class it as a damn good decision to leave the house that night, despite my body begging me not to. I looked down to Harry’s and Sara’s hands, which were clasped together, his thumb sweetly rubbing over her skin, and I felt my stomach drop just a little bit. I wanted that. I wanted to have someone in my life who wanted to hold my hand and be with me on a Saturday night and a Sunday morning. The last relationship I’d been in was two years earlier, and Ash turned out to be a cheating bastard anyway. I wanted a happy, healthy relationship, with someone who really cared about me. I hadn’t realised it would be such a difficult thing to find. I guess that was another reason I had always been willing to go on those dates alongside Harry, despite the fact they were always unsuccessful. That was the first time all night that I allowed myself to feel like a third wheel in their company, zoning out of the conversation and getting somewhat emotional, blaming the time of the month. Thankfully, it wasn’t too long before we’d reached Harry’s block of flats, trying to regain some stamina to at least bid them a cheery farewell, but my mood had dropped a considerable amount. “Thanks for inviting me.” I bid to Sara. “It was good, thanks.” “Uh… Yeah! You’re welcome. See you soon!” “Night, you two!” She came to a standstill, lingering outside the front door of his building, but Harry let his hand slip from hers, and continued to walk alongside me. “Harry?” She questioned, seeming quite stern. “I’m just gunna walk her home.” He nodded, not stopping his small steps, even when I had, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “You serious?” She gawped. I could see the look of annoyance on her face, and I wanted to protest and tell him to just go indoors with his girlfriend and that I’d be fine, but I knew it was pointless. Neither myself or Sara would be able to sway him. I dropped my head to the floor, slowly backing away from her and ignoring the look on her face. “Harry, it’s five minutes down the road!” She groaned. “Exactly!” He used her point against her. “It’s late, and I wanna get her home safe. Go get settled, I’ll be ten minutes. It’s not an issue.” I could tell she wasn’t happy about it, but she didn’t put up any more of a fight, simply letting herself indoors and leaving us to it. She didn’t even say anything else, just tensed and turned away from us. I questioned exactly how many drinks she’d had over the evening. Myself and Harry set off in silence, and I kept glancing back over my shoulder, feeling uncomfortable being in the middle of whatever the hell had just happened. “You don’t have to walk me home.” I finally grumbled. “It’s fine.” “I want to walk you home, Lona.” He huffed. “I’d feel like a dick if I didn’t.” “Well… she’s pissed off now.” “Well then she needs to grow up a bit. For the sake of ten extra minutes and me wanting to make sure you’re safe. I know what’s more important to me.” When he put it like that, it did make total sense that he’d want to walk me home, but I couldn’t help but feel like I’d somehow conjured up a sour evening and an argument between the two of them, which was the last thing I wanted. I could see why she felt as though it was a pointless journey, but I could also why it was a journey that Harry wanted to make. “Okay. Thank you.” I mumbled. “You’re welcome.” He grinned, quickly seeming completely unfazed by the way his girlfriend had reacted to his actions. “So, did you tell Lewis you plan on naming your first child Ringo?” “I felt that was coming on a little strong.” I just about contained my smile. “He is aware that Ringo is my favourite Beatle though.” “God, don’t tell me you started bothering him about The Beatles.” He sniggered, with a roll of his eyes. “He asked why I moved here! I was just being honest.” Harry couldn’t say too much on the matter. He’d been stuck between going to Manchester University or John Moores, and said he’d eventually put the argument down to The Stone Roses vs The Beatles, and The Beatles had won him over. Clearly. That didn’t ever stop him raving about The Stone Roses. Our feet slapped against the damp pavement perfectly in time, my smile fixed on my face until I lifted my head back up. We were walking past a large group of lads, all drunk out of their minds and yelling and acting rowdy, and I was then extremely grateful that Harry had decided to walk me home. My stomach still dropped at the sight of them all, shuffling a little closer to Harry and keeping my head down. He sensed my unease, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, tucking me close to him. I imagined I was the very last thing on their minds, all too drunk and happy and probably perfectly decent blokes, but that didn’t stop me from freezing up and feeling intimidated. “This is why I don’t want you walking home on your own.” He mumbled once we’d gotten past them. I sighed, glancing back over my shoulder once we’d passed them, but staying at his side. They hadn’t needed to do anything, and I didn’t think they would have even if I wasn’t in Harry’s company, but there was something about a gathering of lads, especially drunk ones, that would always put me on edge. We stayed that way until we reached my building, Harry with his arm around me and my body cuddled into his, and even when I thought he may bid me farewell by the front door, he didn’t, guiding me past the broken elevator and up the few flights of stairs before we reached my floor. “Thank you for walking me back.” I smiled, fiddling with my lock before practically kicking my door open. “I hope you’re not in too much trouble with the missus.” “She’ll get over it. She shouldn’t be bothered by it at all, but whatever.” He shrugged. I stepped indoors, turning around to look at him once more, leaning against the wall, furrowing my brows and shooting him a rather sceptical look. He titled his head, waiting for me to voice my thoughts, resting against the doorframe, in no rush to leave. “What’s it like… being in love?” I asked quietly. “What ya talking about? You’ve been in love.” “Mm. I’m not sure I have.” He dropped his head, running the back of his hand repetitively over his eye, clearly exhausted. “Hm. I’m not sure I have either.” He replied. “No?” “Think I’ve maybe… built it up too much in my head.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve always been so shit with girls and like… now I’m actually with someone I really care about… I feel like I’ve just overthought it before. Does that make sense?” “Not really.” I giggled. “I guess it’s like… I’m still not fully relaxed around her, y’know? Because I’ve just… gone over what this should be like so many times in my head, it’s like I’m still a bit nervous.” His then bolted his head up to me, rushing his next words. “Does that sound stupid? Am I being stupid?” “Maybe.” I smiled as kindly as I could. “She’s a great girl, Harry. Gotta let yourself… chill out a bit, and just enjoy it.” He nodded, attempting to adapt my words and find an ease with Sara that he hadn’t quite allowed himself to thus far in their relationship. He truly had been exceptionally rubbish when it came to girls. He was insanely good looking, tall, well built, bright green eyes and perfect pink lips. To look at, you would have thought he’d be brilliant with girls, but it was just something he’d never been able to figure out. He’d get too nervous and anxious about the whole thing. He was much better after a few drinks, but that usually resulted in one night stands rather than feelings and relationships. “Don’t worry about it too much.” I reached out, tugging lightly on his jumper. “Don’t overthink it.” “Easier said than done.” “True, but try.” “Okay. I will. Promise.” “Now go home.” I pushed him further from me. “Thanks… again.” “Don’t mention it.” He backed away slowly. “See you soon, alright?” “The double date!” I beamed. “He’ll definitely mention you to Sara.” He shrugged smugly. “Be a fool not to.” I grinned like an idiot, biting my bottom lip and watching him go. I suppose it was always nice to end an evening with Harry Styles. My night certainly could have been a lot worse. “And who knows,” He beamed. “Maybe he’ll be the first guy to give you those multiple orgasms.” “I should be so fucking lucky!” He laughed lightly, scrunching his nose and keeping his eyes on me until he was just about to be back out in the stairwell, before shooting me a friendly wink, a classic move of his. “Night, Lona.” “Goodnight.” As soon as his back was turned, I gently shut the door and locked myself inside, still smiling away to myself as I trailed through my home, dropping my bag down by the door and then sulking towards the bathroom, readying myself for bed. My mind ran over the rather mundane events of the evening as I sorted myself out, questioning why it was I’d allowed myself to feel so low at the very end, to amplify things and project things and feel so intensely. It was easy to blame the time of the month, but I knew I’d actually reached this stage of my life where I truly was craving a connection with someone that felt honest and sustainable. I found myself questioning if I was grasping at nothing with Lewis just because he was there, he was an option. This was a rather recent revelation. I’d always been somewhat picky when it came to boys and relationships. I’d always thought it was better to be alone than it was to settle for someone, or ignore extortionate differences that would only force distance and disdain further down the line, when I’d already become vulnerable. I had always been that way. My mother once told me that when I was younger, a boy at school had asked me rather shyly to be his girlfriend and I’d said no because I didn’t like his shoes. I suppose the fashion industry was the right place for me after all. But I was beginning to wonder if I’d just set my standards too high, if I expected too much, if being with someone didn’t have to be this perfect thing and he didn’t need to be this perfect person. I didn’t think I was perfect, so how could I be with this perfect person I so desperately craved? I didn’t want to query my standards due to loneliness, and maybe it wasn’t settling, but just adjusting. I cursed myself for being a romantic when I genuinely didn’t want to be, nor were my standards low enough to fulfil the needs of the romantic within me. It was a constant and brutal battle. By the time I was clambering into bed, I had a text from Harry. H: She’s pretending to be asleep. She’s definitely mad. L: Say you’re sorry, even if you don’t mean it. H: No. L: Do you want a shag or not? H: Yes. L: Then say you’re sorry. She’s had a few, she’ll have a clear head in the morning and she won’t be mad. But for now, say you’re sorry, have sex, and get some kip. H: You’re so wise. L: I know. Nighty night! H: Night! X I tucked myself up tight, putting my phone on charge and then locking it with a roll of my eyes, flicking off my bedside lamp and falling asleep rather swiftly, still with a timid smile tilting my lips.

#DON'T FORGET THE PROLOGUE #IF YOU MISSED IT #also the story will take place in 2018 #HAPPY THURSDAY #FIRST OFFICIAL IYS CHAPTER #IYS1 #1dff

[psychic-refugee]

Author’s Commentary

This entry is to answer BriEva. Sorry I don’t reply to comments, AO3 counts my responses as comments and my non-clinical OCD does not like that at all. I want people to see my comment count and know that it’s JUST comments and not replies. So it’s a true count rather than bulked up. That’s just my neurosis. Normally I respond to reviews/comments for the next chapter, but there are a lot of points you’re making so I wanted to respond. I hope you're able to see this. lol

Jane’s hair.

I think “forcing” is kind of a strong word. Jane has never said she didn’t want her hair dyed. She does, she wants to fit in with her human peers. She was super excited to have her hair done. Remember, for the first three years at Auradon Prep, she has been the only fae student until Mal came. While some humans do have very light platinum blonde hair, we’re talking fae platinum blonde. I use the words “star lit” to convey that it’s kind of an ethereal colour. So while it could be considered human, it certainly isn’t common and would makes them stand out. What Jane resents or doesn’t want is the store bought dye.

So she’s stuck in a hard place. She wants to fit in, she wants to appear innocuous and human. And growing up and living with such anti-magic sentiment, particularly against the fae because of the Fae Wars, it’s not surprising that FGM and Jane would try to assimilate. But with fae hair being difficult to hide, she has to rely on what she can afford which causes undesirable results.

But the fact that while it looks bad they still do it, which I think conveys that it’s still better than the alternative: to appear “too fae.”

So the tension lies in what each thinks is appropriate. FGM doesn’t think it appropriate for Jane to accept such a lavish gift of Iliofáneia hair appointments, Jane doesn’t see it as a big deal.

Part of FGM’s reason might be because of guilt, but I think that FGM is professional enough that she wouldn’t show that kind of leniency. And to force kids to drastically change their hair at an expensive salon on the Crown’s dime seems like it’s not worth the fight.

We also have to remember that FGM is Jane’s mother, not Mal or Evie’s. I think she knows she has no real authority to dictate what their hair looks like unless it’s against school code and that’s only as headmistress. The spirit of the dress code is to stop students from looking ostentatious or outlandish. It stops students from dying their hair say purple or blue. BUT with Mal and Evie that’s their natural hair, and by the rules taken literally they are OK. The administration may define natural to specifically mean natural human colours or give a list that excludes specific colours for the next school year. I’ve seen it happen where the school code book wasn’t specific in some area, a student contested their dress choice (height of the heel of a shoe) and won because they technically were not breaking the dress code. BUT for the next year, the school revised the code to specify heel height and they couldn’t wear the same shoes anymore.

I think that’s common enough, where a parent has a set of rules and expectations for their own children, but for others’ children they do not try to assert that same kind of authority. Basically “Not my circus, not my monkeys.” There are some adults that think they’re everyone’s parent and can therefore give their opinion or orders at will, but FGM isn’t one of them. lol

I would like to think that FGM would allow Jane to have her natural hair if that’s what she really wanted. When raising children in an environment that could be potentially hostile to them if they are seen as outsiders, you try to have them fit in as best they can. Sometimes cultural assimilation is a matter of survival. So FGM having Jane dye her hair as a matter of course when she’s younger, I think is understandable. Does it suck? Yes. Sometimes you have to make that decision, stand firm and potentially face backlash or give in. Maybe if it were just FGM, she would have decided to keep her hair natural. But with a daughter, do you want to make that stand and have her also face that backlash? I think it’s a tough choice that parents go through.

Existence of the Curl & Dye

It does not exist in LOE. This is a creative decision, I just don’t think a modern salon like that would exist as is in an impoverish island. I do mention that brothels do have some hair care devices, such as flat irons, and I would assume hair dryers would be part of that (assuming these are part of the cast off technology the Mainland gives away). But it would really only pertain to brothels, for the most part I don’t see enough of a middle or higher class population on the isle to support an independent salon. And since brothels compete with each other, they wouldn’t want to share this space anyway. So all brothels have in house beauticians/they do it themselves to cater to their needs.

For the other non-brothel citizens, I see more of a do it yourself/family does it deal if they do it at all. Think pre-industrial revolution and a society that struggles with food shortages and no real medical care. Celebrations, if any, are few and far between. So the reasons to have done up hair are pretty rare. And in the rare instances, it would be family members who help groom each other.  

Mal’s Dad

Is not Hades nor is he Chernabog. Both of these characters are actual gods. In LOE, that’s just not a thing. While I get that the franchise wanted to utilize all the bad guys they have copy rights to, it implies that FGM is above godlike powerful and I don’t want her to be. I get that Hades is recognizable and little kids don’t care, but I do so none of the gods reside on the Isle of the Lost.

We are getting closer to finding out who Carlos’ dad is, but no spoilers for that.

Cruella’s sentencing

I will delve more into the exact nature of what happened to get Cruella on the Isle, no spoilers. I want to make the distinction of her “innocence” however. Do not think of Cruella as innocent, as if she did nothing wrong, she did; while it can’t be said she physically stole the puppies she did pay others to do so. That’s still a crime. Her erratic behavior while driving endangered the public, that’s still a crime. These crimes, however, are not in my opinion enough to get her onto the Isle. Even if she had physically taken the puppies and killed them, that would not have (in my opinion) warranted a full banishment to the Isle.

Cecil's exact role in her sentencing will be addressed, no spoilers. But I will say that he is not responsible for her mental state. I just don't see him being able to pull essentially poisoning her for a long period of time to do permanent brain damage.

Cruella having a fae line of clothing

No, that is not the reason she was sent away. I will get into more of King Adam and Cecil’s motivations for getting rid of Cruella, but it has nothing to do with aspirations or plans with her fashion line.

It’s a plausible idea and fun thought, but it’s not for LOE.

Cause of the Fae Wars

Yes, that is quite the question isn’t it? (<.< ) (>.>) tee hee hee. You are touching on a lot of good topics but I won’t say which ones, if any, pertain to this story, no spoilers.

The Isle Four when they hit 18

There will be significant events that happen when the Isle Four reach 18 but that will be revealed in time, no spoilers. Originally I wanted to have the Winter Recital happen in Ch. 11, but fleshing out Jane, Carlos and Mal's relationship, the Isle Four's relationship was longer than I originally thought it would be so I opted to cut it until the next chapter. We will see the effects of Carlos turning 18.

Jane having "fantasies" of Carlos

I honestly do not see Jane doing this. It's not to say women in general wouldn't (Audrey was clearly effected by making out with Ben), but Jane I see as rather innocent and grew up with stories of gallant knights and princes. So she dreams of meeting her “Prince” and getting married and kids. But she doesn’t really think of the path to get said kids, to her they are something that just happens. lol

Jane’s grudge

I wouldn’t akin her grievance with Mal with animated versions of Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. The latter two are pretty straight forward villains. Jane I would hope is a little more complex. lol Yes, her desire for Carlos is part of the reason. But we see a more or less ostracized girl no friends just that desperately wanted her own Cinderella moment, but was refused by Mal. Mal does have magic and probably could have helped her, but self-preservation stayed her hand. Jane erroneously sees this as purposefully malicious. With no friends, she has no one to talk this through with; she has no one to give her a different perspective. That seed grows when she thinks of all the times Audrey warned Mal was bad. Audrey blaming Mal for her break up with Ben just cements the idea she was already nurturing. Jane also has this over romanticized version of Carlos in her head, which happens with people you’re infatuated with and convince yourself that you’re in love with them. She thinks he needs saving and that he was just this completely helpless victim in the Isle, but deep down is noble--that he's really just a Prince underneath it all.

Also, when you grow up thinking villains are on the Isle and everyone in Auradon is the hero, it’s hard to see your own behavior (especially when you think you’re “saving” someone) as problematic. Jane sees herself as the hero, just like her mother with Cinderella.

All topics that will be touched on in time, no spoilers:

If Ben finds love and gets over Mal Carlos’ family and money Audrey and Jane’s plans for the love spell Update on the Isle while the Isle Four are gone Mal’s possible allergy to iron

Please feel free to comment as much as you want. I hope I answered all your questions/topics.

#BriEva #author's commentary #Legacy of Evil Fanfiction #jane #carlos de vil #Mal #fairy godmother #sleeping beauty #snow white #Cruella De Vil

[sparda3g]

The Seven Deadly Sins Chapter 267 and 268 Review

It’s been a while since I last review the series’ chapter. I had a complication with my new laptop to get my day started, but now I am back in motion. I apologize for unable to get chapter 266 review done. Now I am back for the latest chapter; however, there were two releases. I guess you can say it’s my karma, can’t escape from working hard. On the bright side, we have two chapters to enjoy.

The first chapter was largely a buildup, picked up right where Estarossa lost his mind and proceeded to choke Elizabeth, because love hurts. It’s sad how I thought, “As expected. Oh the humanity! Will anyone please save the princess?!” Sorry, my expectation has shrunk. Fortunately, she ends up saving herself by shooting magic right at his face. It’s the least she had to do; she was about to die. Honestly, if someone did save her from that, that is kind of sad. My hope for her was rising and nothing can ruin that…

Right?

An interesting setting for Estarossa to choose to hide her at, concerning that it was a secret meeting place between Meliodas and her. Estarossa truly believe he is his oldest brother; I can’t say that’s sweet of him. Of course, Elizabeth will be touched by the sight since it is nostalgia and all, so I didn’t mind her reacting this way. For now. Shame that it does resort to a love triangle war though, especially Estarossa being involved in this mess.

The next conflict against him is setup back at the plain field with the Archangels and King getting ready to set off. I wonder if this is how the series’ battle will be like going forward; teamwork is the only way to win. It’s nothing wrong with that; just feel like one-on-one will become Meliodas and very few others exclusive. Anyway, it makes sense for those three to be the only one to go since they can fly; sorry, no flying nimbus. If this was a Seinen series, I would be very afraid for King to die because of marriage in mind, but I am worried in a lower capacity level.

Before anyone can say, “Sausagefest,” Derieri insists to join along as well because she can fly too. This is when it finally put her trust into the test due to her status. At least the Archangels aren’t so rude with her. It’s  evident that only Ludociel is a bona fide douche of Archangels; good for others. Human can bad mouth at her all day, so it’s natural.

I was happy that King is the one to step up and defend her, mainly because his journey in the past spiritually comes in handy for a reasonable decision making. I couldn’t see any other way. I don’t know if King will tell her the story, though I think it’s that important. So long she has someone’s support, she is allowed to go. I do get the feeling that this is her endgame, but maybe Nakaba will surprise me. We’ll see. Now we have a demon, a fairy, and two Archangels. Sounds like a really strong team.

It segues to a better yet simple insight of Estarossa and his struggles in the past. As said before, he’s like the bastard child that no one would want or befriend with. The reason why he loves Elizabeth and Meliodas is because they didn’t laugh at him. It’s a familiar story of social outcast getting loved by one and eventually fallen in love. The problem is he’s a villain and most importantly, Elizabeth always have her eyes on Meliodas. What a shocker.

Even in the midst of depression, she still talks about him and ask Estarossa to help her. To be fair, Meliodas is the prime target, so I won’t blame her for bringing up the topic in this dreary mood. I unintentionally feel bad for Estarossa to be stuck with this hell of being neglected by two obsessed lovers. Who’s the actual villain here?

The one part that is questionable and honestly, I’m curious for probably a reason that wasn’t intended is whether that one memory of his is true. He states that Meliodas once told him that he will work things out with him and Elizabeth. Elizabeth is confident that he would never say that. If you take it out of context, I would think she’s an asshole for being so damn sure. Hell, do we even know what Meliodas meant if that part is true? It sounds like something of an older brother trying to make the relationship work, but not necessarily make them lovers. I wish the translation was more accurate or the tone was better suggestive because that respond somewhat pissed me off. It better be false to escape this mess. “I’m sure your memory is mistaken.” It better be…

Estarossa does go mad and the Commandments begin to swallow him up. He resumes back to choking Elizabeth out cold, only it’s a strangle rather than a chokehold. She started it, so serve her right. At least, she’s on cue to be damsel in distress, so why I even bother hoping. Estarossa form a ball shape, filled with the Commandments’ energy. He lost his mind to drag her into the abyss, so he can eat her. Look, if it does put her into Kaneki’s state in the last episode of Tokyo Ghoul Season 1, I will eat all of my complaints and put her on a throne; no more from me.

It’s an interesting comparison with Estarossa and Meliodas’ current state. That would mean Estarossa will go through the transformation phase similar to Meliodas in which is taking time to complete. The state is like a cocoon, waiting it to break. What I would like to know if Meliodas can come in contact with other Commandments or other similar procedure he’s in. If so, he may detect Elizabeth in danger and plan will change. It does sound like a perfect setup for those two to go head-to-head with similar power-up. It’s only matter of time.

The second chapter is pretty straightforward, but entertaining none the less. It’s all about Ban, the guy who has been missing for a while. The color page did give it away, so it wasn’t much of shocker. However, it does hold more than one meaning behind it. While there isn’t much to cover in plot aspect, the joy comes from the journey and how far he has gone.

It does start off strange with some wolf covered in black energy or whatever, leaving some fans wondering what is that at first. I quite like the imagery of the setting. It’s artsy in a way, something like Limbo the video game. It’s a nice change of pace in its atmosphere; Nakaba should do more of that technique. It becomes clear that it’s Ban when it remembers the Fountain of Youth and sure enough, he recovers to his normal state. Well, his human state to be exact.

These two chapters used plenty of large panels, sometimes a page worth, for impacting effect or cool designs. In this chapter, it’s mainly for the detail and exploiting the hardship journey. Purgatory is true hell and even for an immortal, it can still “kill” you. Your body may not break, but your mind will.

Ban grew crap load of hair but that’s because time travel fast in there. With the mixed of an image of a lost man and his current mental state, it would appear he has lost his mind, close succumb to eternal hell. It’s effective when even Ban was scared out of his mind. The double page is really good. It’s like watching some guy going to an endless journey; wandering around for centuries (literally).

I feel bad for Ban to suffer this magnitude. It’s agonizing how he keeps calling for Meliodas like he really can’t take it anymore. Immortal isn’t shaping up to be incredible. It’s telling when he begins to speak to himself, questions and all. You can argue that he’s doing so to keep in check of his humanity’s state, which is plausible. Either way, he’s fallen into the despair that could one day take him to emptiness.

We are treated with a nice fun action with some silly looking black dragon, but this type of nature is amusing and I do miss it. It’s a good change of imagination in its lore, so not everything has to be vicious in design. The dragon reminds me of Meliodas’ old sword, but I believe that is the point by the end. It brings a fun action between the two. It was a good timing on its end since Ban needed a distraction to prevent total insanity. It’s funny how I thought we have a new hairstyle for Ban, only to get his head blown away and regenerate with the usual cut. It’s a good thing that I didn’t jump ahead to think there’s an art error since time travel really fast and such.

It’s good that it was established a while back that Ban and Meliodas have a solid friendship, so it’s nice yet a bit sad how much he has struggled to retrieve his best friend’s emotion. Luckily, Ban has a lover that is far tolerable in compare but my point is his reminder of Elaine waiting for him causes “Meliodas” to speak from somewhere. All this time, that funny looking dragon is “him.” It’s charming how two friends always find a way to challenge each other, no matter where.

Now that he has found “him,” it does make me wonder if he will return once actual Meliodas “hatches” from transformation or will it be for a while, leaving room for Meliodas to cause chaos. I don’t even know how can Ban escape from there. He now holds the game changer; it’s only matter of how long it will take.

Overall, the two chapters were good for its setup. Archangels, King, and Derieri is an impressive dynamic; hopefully it takes them a while to get there for some amusing interactions. Estarossa lost his mind because this romance has been mind-numbing. It leaves a sign of potential two brothers’ battle coming soon, possibly after with those four arrival. Ban’s journey was creeping and amusing. The artwork for both chapters are pretty solid with nice detail with its single page use. The second chapter benefited greatly from extra spaces and impacting inserts. The combine of two doesn’t make it feel like two chapters in total, but it covers enough setup to engage an exciting event for the next. Plus, both end page of each chapter connects each other. It won’t be long now before another round of carnage ensue.

#The Seven Deadly Sins #nanatsu no taizai #chapter 267 #chapter 268 #review